The Big Chill
by aliaslaceygreen
Summary: IT's OVER! THE HAPPY EVER AFTER IS HERE This is an origin story ---how did our favorite characters become who they are today? I'm a BABE. ANGST. not particularly horrible to Morelli
1. Strangers in the Night

Characters belong to Janet Evanovich, if you recognize them. This is an alternate reality / and Plum universe short series, (maybe), based loosely on the **soundtrack** for the movie the Big Chill. (but it has nothing at all to do with the movie!)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxre-posted because dividers xxxx didn't show up! sorry 'bout that!

THE BIG CHILL

Chapter ONE

Strangers in the Night

I skid to a stop at the curb of the Performing Arts Center, and swung the door to my black Jag open. The valet, a bow tied kid of maybe twenty or so couldn't wipe the drool from his mouth fast enough as I slipped myself from the car and handed him my keys. I walked around to the passenger door, and played the gallant knight, opening the door and holding out my hand to Marina. She could always stop traffic, Marina could; and tonight was no exception.

It was almost nine pm; the sun had only just gone down on this, the first day of summer. We were here for The Summer Solstice Gala, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. The night air was sultry; it hung heavy and thick. No surprise there, humidity and New Jersey go hand in hand. You would of course never know this by looking at Marina. She took my hand, smiled up at me, and swung her legs out in a graceful movement. The slit up the side of her skirt was almost indecent.

Her gown was the color of the sunset, with a flaming orange skirt that slowly turned fiery red by the time it reached the top of the plunging neckline which was edged with glittering crystals. She looked crisp, and sparkling; cool and collected, as always. It was no surprise to me that she was one of the best neurosurgeons in the tri-state area.

No, truth be told, she looked hot, on fire; but I guess she knew that too, based on the confident smile she boasted. Her hair was piled high, in some type of knot, that looked artful and happenstance all at once. I knew she had spent at least an hour having it arranged just so. Her skin was glowing and tanned, as if she needed enhancement to her rich mocha colored skin. With her make-up done as it was she looked exotic and alluring; as far away from the seriousness and precision of an operating room as one could get.

My tuxedo, on the other hand, felt like a sweat drenched rag. I hated the thing on a cool night; dressing up wasn't really my idea of fun. But I had promised I would escort her, as I was proud of her accomplishments, loved her for all she was worth and was, by all accounts, stuck in Trenton for another six weeks.

She took the arm I offered her, and squeezed it with gratitude. I knew we made quite the couple as we approached the entrance to the ballroom. We had been this route before, Marina and I, and we knew the roles we played. Neither of us cared for the game, but we played it well; too often for my taste, but we were successful. And that, she would remind me in the morning, as I regaled to her the horrors of the night just past, is how the game is played, little brother.

The music was too loud, and the scents of extravagant floral displays and too many perfumes competed with the distasteful aroma of another rubber chicken meal. The room was overfilled with patrons of the arts, matronly woman trolling the tables for men like me; (my sister called me eye candy!) philanthropists and the hoi-polloi.

Marina was whisked away by someone from the hospital almost immediately. She was off to do her thing, and chat it up with strangers; laughing and making it seem like it was their own idea to hand over a generous check to the Center for Brain Studies. She was good at this; this schmoozing, stupid bullshit. Ask the damn man to donate the money and save us from nights like these, I groaned.

I would prefer hand to hand combat in darkest Africa over being pawed over by outdated, dried up, disillusioned society wives who would undoubtedly swarm around me all night long. At first they will pretend fascination at my sister's astonishing career and success, and slowly, as they imbibe more alcohol they will begin to oh so indiscreetly proposition me, the handsome bachelor. They will worry over me and my lack of female companionship, and will twitter behind their hands at how they want to run their fingers through my hair, comment to one another on the shape of my ass, or breathlessly ask how many people have I killed; all to the end that they hope I will grace them with my presence in their bed.

Oh, anywhere else right now, indeed. I looked again at Marina. Her smile could stop time. Her laughter was like angels singing. I guess I better get moving along myself; it's a damn good thing I love her. And owe her my own life.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tonight is game three of a good series between the Mets and the Red Sox, ya know? Mets are gonna go all the way this year, I can feel it. And yet, here I am, at another stupid fund-raiser, just so Dickie can be seen by all the right people. Damn stupid people. I mean, I guess I can't complain right? Free liquor, another new dress and a nice day at the spa….oh, if only Dickie would lavish that kind of attention on me _for_ me, instead of to impress other people.

His boss's wife had asked we attend; this brain thing was a pet charity of hers, and she wanted us to be there. No expense was spared making me look hot and sexy, like Dickie felt I should look; and we arrived in his fully loaded Lexus. All window dressing. I drove a beater, because I couldn't afford anything more; I had to put my extra money towards the wedding that my mother and Dickie wanted us to have, to celebrate in the style he would like to become accustomed. Argh.

Of course, my parent's couldn't afford that kind of wedding. Valerie had only gotten married two years ago, and my dad was still paying it off. And Dickie, well, go figure; there's the one thing he wants to be traditional about. I live with him, we have sex, but the bride's family (in this case, little ol' me) should pay for the whole wedding.

And don't get me wrong. I want a gorgeous wedding too. What girl born and raised in Chambersburg, New Jersey doesn't? It's the lullaby sung to us at night, for chrissakes! But the entire wedding industry is currently on my shit list. Every blasted thing that has the word bride or groom attached to it has its price jacked up like crazy.

And the food tonight sucked. Two big ones for this nasty chicken dinner? I was glad I ate before I left. That made Dickie happy, because I left so much on my plate. Everyone saw what a dainty eater I was. It showed I cared about my figure. Score another one for Dickie Orr, he sure found himself a winner. Yeah right. I just preferred to eat _real_ food, ya know?

After I listlessly nibbled at my dinner, we danced. I was wearing my '_last years Vera Wang great deal but I can say it's a Vera Wang'_ dress, and really cute FMP's. Dickie does share my interest in FMP's; I am never lacking in the shoe department. I liked this pair because I could squash his foot with the heel 'accidentally' when he stepped on my toes. If he tries to dance without counting time, he always misses a step and there goes my pedicure. Ballroom lessons have at least prevented things like broken toes.

My fiancé is what is generously called light skinned. In actuality is skin tone is similar to mine, but on a woman it's called porcelain and is desirable, but for a guy he's a bit pasty. His brown hair is thick and wavy, and he's considered generally handsome, I suppose. I guess I am supposed to be biased, because he is mine. I see other women looking him over as we dance, so yeah, I guess he's the catch of the year, or the day, or something. His tux was tight in all the right places, and he does look the part of the successful lawyer. Here's hoping! He's just my height when I'm in heels, and I guess we have a nice look about us together. It was no surprise to anyone when we announced our engagement; so really, all in all we are good together.

And he must envision future little Orr's or something, because he wants to marry me, Stephanie Plum, whose mother had long ago given up hope of teaching me the finer arts of being a housewife. Not for lack of trying. But once I'd set a few toaster ovens on fire and the motor of the blender was burned out, even Mom thought I should just aim high on the income scale and hope for a housekeeper. If Dickie can make partner, I may just get mom's wish! So, being the dutiful fiancée who dreams of a life larger than the waxy buildup on the kitchen floor, you can guess I am motivated to dance with all of Dickie's employers; heck I'll dance with anyone who will assist me in my desire to escape lifelong drudgery.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tonight was dragging. Even for a fundraiser it was a long night. When I mentioned it to Marina, she laughed at me and told me to go find someone to play with. So, here I am, standing, waiting in the lobby, eyeing all the ladies as they move to and fro, and trying to find someone to entertain me. Hey, it was her idea!

I'm not uncomfortable in social situations. My parents had political and civic duties that allowed us to be exposed to the upper crust. I clean up well, I've been told, but my comfort level is somewhat strained around artificial people. Blame it on the training I'd received in the Army. I am able to spot phonies a mile away. And my radar, never off, could tell that the place was littered with fakes tonight. True, some of them may be genuinely nice humans, but they have their masks in place. Of course, I play the game well, as I have said, and I am never without my mask. I looked down at the empty glass I was holding. Shit, I don't recall drinking it. Ok. I'm cutting myself off. Sure sign you've had too much Manoso, when you don't remember drinking it.

Marina said tonight was successful so far. I was glad for her. This was her baby, the Center for Brain Studies. She fought long and hard to have it opened at Robert Wood, and she was largely responsible for keeping it running. It definitely cut into her time; her downtime that is, not her work time. She still kept her office hours and performed miracle surgeries, but when she wasn't in the OR she was trying to find ways to keep this center thriving. I could see her from my perch by the window, and watched her with pride in my eyes.

Damn it, I better go run interference for her; her jack-ass of an ex-husband, Dr. Jerk-off just walked over to her. "Dennison." There could be no mistaking my tone for that of friendship. That was my intention.

"Manoso."

"I've been trying all night to dance with my sister…hope you don't mind the intrusion?" I growled at the man, my smile pasted firmly in place.

"Of course not." Roger Dennison spun on his heel and took off.

"Asshole," I heard Marina mumble, and then "Thank you Carlos." She put her arms around my waist, and looking up at me, smiled her gratitude.

"What are little brothers for, Rina?" I smiled back at her.

She grinned. "Stop that. All the women in the room are going to walk into something if you keep that up." I just raised my eyebrow at her.

"You owe me a dance, brother dear." I led her to the dance floor as a tango began. Dancing with Marina was almost too much of a sensual experience. She knew how to move her body. "Damn it, chica, you're my sister."

"Hijo, am I too much woman for you?"

All eyes are probably on us by now, I suspected. But still, to dance with her was magic. The woman was born to move. Latina enchantment. My laughter erupted as I dipped her low. "Of course you are, baby. You know it."

As I righted Marina the song ended; followed by a nice slow one. We stayed on the dance floor, moving together, talking, and just enjoying the night. She soothed me.

She has been on my case since I returned home from my tour to go out, meet someone, chill. But there's no way I am interested in getting involved with anyone. I was still reeling from my divorce. And that's stupid, because I hadn't wanted to get married, didn't want a kid, or a wife. No white picket fences and soccer practice for me. But strange as it was, it bothered me to be divorced. My failure was an embarrassment to me. I was not going to continue to screw up. I told her as much when I informed her I had put in for another 4 years. In 6 weeks, I was leaving for Fort Benning, Georgia, for Ranger school. I will not be a failure.

I had sworn to Marina I would fly straight before. When I was eighteen, she agreed to bail me out of jail, again, only after I agreed to get my ass in gear. She told me she'd drive me to the recruiting station of my choice or I could stay and face the music. Fuck, being in Juvie wasn't enjoyable, there was no way I was interested in being in the real penal system. She was tired of dealing with my ass, and I should know that my father would be disappointed. Not to mention my mother. That of course was the way she had always handled me. 'Mom, Dad, what would they say?' God I missed them. What would I have ever done without Marina? Or Celia. My two big sisters were my backbone.

As I spun Marina about, I was entranced by a fantasy in midnight blue. I felt my heart constrict. She was captivating. I stared at her over Marina's shoulder. Her hair was a soft halo glowing in the moonlight of her pale skin. Her gown accented her delicate beauty. Her eyes were wandering as she danced with a non-descript man, and they caught me staring. They were clear blue, and sparkled like the stars in the heavens. I was dancing with the sun, but was struck low by the vision of moonlit nights.

Our eyes locked. Shit.

"Ouch," Marina wiggled in my arms, "that was my toe. It's not like you to miss a step, Carlos." But I didn't really hear her. The woman's blue eyes were piercing my soul. They looked so joyless. They looked on us with something akin to envy.

_Strangers in the night exchanging glances,  
Wond'ring in the night what were the chances  
we'd be sharing love before the night was through._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dickie was mumbling something. But it didn't seem to require my attention, so I let my eyes wander while we danced. My mind followed suit. There were some really beautiful dresses tonight. I still had to decide, once and for all, what color I wanted my bridesmaids to wear. Our wedding was to be at Christmas, but I just didn't want to make it too holiday looking. Oh, wouldn't it be a shock if I chose black! I spotted a number of black gowns that were to die for. Of course, my mother _would_ die if I were to suggest such a thing. Black at a wedding! Heck, it couldn't be worse than the sunny yellow I had to endure for Valerie. The soft pink I wore for my best friend Marylou's wedding was something a bit better with my skin tone, but oh, wouldn't black be daring.

And oh, wouldn't Dickie throw a fit. 'You need to be an example, Stephanie. I want us to be successful Stephanie. You need to conform, Stephanie.' Stupid. Why can't I be different? I wanted to scream. No one has ever appreciated the unique, I sulked, looking around. In a darker corner of the room a couple was dancing the proper way to this music. Not the stiff, one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four that Dickie was counting out. Ah, that's what he's mumbling, it occurred to me. He's counting the tango! He totally misses the point of this dance. Mental head slap, Steph.

I thought the lady who was dancing had the right idea. She felt the music. And her dress, now that was stunning. I couldn't ever get away with that incredible sunset reddish color, not with my pale skin. But wow. Her face glowed, her smile was genuine. She really loved the man she was dancing with. Her eyes gave that away. And from the back he didn't look too bad at all. I caught how nicely his tuxedo pants accented his ass and grinned. I always did like a nice ass on a guy.

For the safety of my toes, I was glad that the tango ended and something more to Dickie's expertise began to play. We had to make face time here on the floor; he wanted to be seen by all his bosses. I would see him nod on occasion, almost checking off a list of men who needed to see him in his head. I guess I should be glad he was so successful already. His birthday was in two months, and he had told me long ago it was his personal goal to make partner by thirty.

And then, we'd buy a house! He wanted to stay in Trenton, but I wanted to go somewhere, anywhere else. But how could I complain? Twenty three years old, a decent job, engaged to a lawyer and about to be a homeowner. I should be happy. I bit my lower lip, chewing on it reflexively, wondering why I didn't feel as happy as everyone said I should be.

I drew in a sharp breath, suddenly stunned by the eyes that caught mine. The man dancing with the lady in red was watching me, and I felt a hitch in my heart. His eyes were almost black from where I stood. They pierced me with a look that said he knew my soul. He was perfect. Strong, chiseled face, dark skin, broad shouldered. I guessed Hispanic, although maybe Italian. His girlfriend was definitely Latina. Maybe 6 ft tall? His hair was very short; he had the look of the military about him; seriously built, the way he held himself. Confidence exuded from his very being. His eyes disturbed me. I tried to look away, but I felt compelled to continue watching him move.

Over his partner's shoulder he graced me with a smile that momentarily blindsided me. Ohmygod. He looked down at the woman, and gave her a sheepish grin. The moment was broken by Dickie spinning me away from that corner. All I wanted to do was to crane my neck around his, to witness the man with the woman, to see happiness.

_Something in your eyes was so inviting,  
Something in your smile was so exciting,  
Something in my heart told me I must have you._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One of Marina's co-workers, an antiquated little man with a shiny head, interrupted our dance. "Everyone wants a piece of you, Marina," I whispered into her ear, getting a swat on the ass in reply. I gave her an evil grin and abandoned her to her fate. As I began to walk off the dance floor, I noted that the woman I had been watching switched partners and the man that I guessed was her date took off with a bunch of suits. I needed a good dose of fresh air. My heart was still pounding.

But instead of going outside, I made my way over to her side and politely interrupted the dance. The man acquiesced easily, but the woman looked stunned. I put my hand in hers, and my other around her waist, and I stepped right into the dance. She moved with me easily. She wasn't a natural born dancer, but I could see she enjoyed it. The tempo was just a bit too fast to talk to her. Which was just as well. What would I say to her, that my heart was hers? She'd take me for a fool. Or worse, assume I was a player and she was tonight's game.

My eyes wandered to our entwined fingers and I saw a hefty diamond ring. Shit. Her scent was heavenly. I pulled her closer than I needed to for the dance and I let myself bury my nose into her hair, breathing her into my soul. I knew I was being rude, invading her space, but I felt compelled to memorize her. I took a step back so I could look at her face again. She looked up at me at the same time, and I had to swallow the gasp that followed. She was beautiful. Her eyes close up were even more like starlight. They sparkled. Her lips needed kissing; they were so lush, deep pink and smooth. My pants grew tight as the thought of feeling her lips on me ran through my brain.

As the music ended, her date descended upon us. "Sweetheart," he called her. "There are some people I would like you to meet."

She turned toward him, still holding my hand. She smiled at me and I was lost. One hundred percent gone. "Thanks for the dance," she whispered and squeezed my hand before letting it go and walking out of my life.

I looked around as I left the ballroom, but they had both disappeared. Damn, she was haunting. I pushed open the glass doors and stepped out onto the plaza, and took a deep breathe trying to slow my racing heart. What happened in there? She had looked into my eyes and I felt overwhelmed.

I walked along the perimeter of the plaza area, trying to control my thoughts. You are leaving for a four year hitch in six weeks. You are not over your failed marriage. You don't want to get involved with someone now. She's engaged to someone already. I was pacing, ticking off reasons in my head why pursuing this was a bad idea. I watched people milling about on their cigarette runs, gathered together, laughing and partying. I stopped in a quiet corner and put my foot up onto the concrete wall, and rested my elbow on my knee. I stared out into the dark, looking for answers to the world's problems; or at least the answers to my dilemma.

Ten seconds of watching her and I felt the overwhelming desire to protect her, to comfort her, to make her smile. Two minutes in my arms, and…. Forget it Manoso. Move on, I told myself. I looked at my watch. Almost midnight. Wasn't this thing ever going to end? What I really needed was to get out of this monkey suit, and find a bar and get wasted. Things would look much clearer tomorrow, after I drank this vision out of my head. With that firm resolve, I decided to go find Marina and get the hell out of dodge.

As I turned to go back inside, the doors opened, and there she was. Her blue gown was illuminated by the moonlight, and she was laughing at something her fiancé said, as he took her hand and led her away. I was rooted to the spot, standing in the shadow of the building while I watched her fold herself into a Lexus. It seemed her laughter had stopped; the light in her eyes gone out, and her face was empty. She looked straight ahead, and it seemed her mind was elsewhere. As he pulled from the curb, I moved purposefully towards the entrance and Marina. I needed out of here. Now.

Marina obviously saw the intent in my stride because she excused herself from the group gathered around her before I had even reached her. "What's up, Carlos?"

Oh, I am so not getting into this with Marina right now. I chose to ignore her question. "Home? You need a ride? I've gotta get out of here."

"Hot date?" she grinned at me. My reputation was something less than angelic, I knew, but I was in no mood for her teasing. I glowered at her. "Gonna go get drunk and get laid. Or maybe I'll bypass the getting drunk part. But I can't take this much longer." I swept my arm around the room.

She tssked at me, and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Go. I can get a ride."

"Thanks, Rina." I absently kissed her on the cheek and spun around to leave.

"Carlos? Thank you for coming tonight. I know this isn't your favorite way to spend an evening."

"Oh, Marina. I'm sorry. You know I'd do anything for you. I just, well, I don't know really. I'm not in a good mood, and I don't really know why." Liar.

"Love you, Rina." My arms came around her waist and I held her close. She was so very special to me. I kissed the top of her head. "Behave" she mumbled, realizing it was a pointless but well meaning comment.

I was out of swatting reach before I spoke. "Si, mama." She hated when I called her mama, even though she had raised me since I was ten. I left then, smiling to myself.

_Strangers in the night two lonely people we were.  
Strangers in the night up to the moment when we said our first hello.  
Little did we know love was just a glance away,  
A warm embracing dance away and ever since that night we've been together,  
Lovers at first sight in love forever.  
It turned out so right for strangers in the night_

_Bert Kaempfert Strangers In The Night _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I woke too early on Sunday morning, startled from my sleep by a dream. I lay with my back to Dickie, the covers settling around me like a cocoon, the sun pouring in through the window. My mind was swimming. The dream was disturbing, despite nothing really happening in it. The couple from the dinner last night, they were dancing on a glass dance floor, and everyone who was there stood around the edges of the room, all wearing white masks, and they clapped and clapped. And then the man, he danced towards me, and swept me off my feet. The floor fell out from below us, and the crowd all waved and cheered as we took off, dancing in the air, flying high. I had never danced to music like this before. I felt confident however that the man, that incredibly handsome strong man who took me in his arms, he would never let me trip or fall. Weird.

I thought about the reality of last night. It had been nice dancing with him. He seemed confident as we glided about the room. I liked the power I had felt in his arms. And his smile--- I saw his smile over and over in the dream, I realized…it was lighting up the room. I thought again how lucky that woman was. Oh, to know that Dickie thought of me the way it seemed the man had thought of her. I would love to be cherished.

I was not in a good mood. I didn't want to even think about having to go to dinner with Dickie's parents tonight. Stuffed shirts more worried about what everyone else thought. And their desire to be correct made my mother seem positively open and hippie-like in her outlook on life. I begged off, and he wasn't too happy. 'Sorry Dickie, I think I'm getting my period. I'm all crampy.' That stopped the conversation dead. He didn't like discussing bodily functions.

I curled up in bed, and tugging my blanket up around my chin, I clicked through channels for an hour, daydreaming. The man's eyes kept coming back into my head. His smile. I imagined his voice, although he never really spoke to me, after asking to dance. I was sure it had been a strong and confident sound. I think he had an accent; subtle, but there. I caught the happily ever after ending of _The Princess Bride_ on cable, and my mind continued to stew. What must it feel like to have such happiness? What was lacking in my life? I must be missing some gene or something, some happiness gene. Everyone, I mean everyone, said I should be happy! I had a great man who loved me, a great future. What more could I want from life?

Sunday ended, and I went to bed depressed. Tomorrow I had to go to work, and I was still confused by all the emotions that were brought about by dancing with a handsome stranger. I need to talk to Marylou tomorrow after work, I thought. I'll have to call her on my lunch hour. Marylou could get my head straight. I stopped in the den, but Dickie was deeply involved in some brief for court in the morning, so he blew me off, and gave me a distracted peck on the cheek. Certainly not awe-inspiring or confidence inducing as far as letting me know I was loved.

I dressed with more care than normal Monday morning, because I needed to prop myself up. Couple of extra layers of mascara, and an extra spritz of perfume. I was really mopey. My mind was all knotted up. What was really the problem? The guy? The way the guy made me feel? A total stranger to me, he felt more connected and aware of me than anything I had ever felt from Dickie. How could that happen in a two minute dance? Or was it a sudden understanding that Dickie would never look at me like the guy had looked at the lady in red? Or was it something different. What did I want to do with my life? Was it this?

I settled in at the office, listening to all the chatter about everyone and their weekend. I didn't participate; rarely ever did, in fact. It felt like middle school sometimes, around the coffee machine. I liked my job most of the time. I was a buyer for Macy's. What girl wouldn't like that? I was low-level, but in the management track. I was proud of my job; Dickie thought it was fine till we had kids. After all he wasn't worried about me having a career; I really should be spending my time learning how to cook or entertain or something else exciting like that.

I was pouring over some wholesale pricing sheets when I got a buzz from Connie, the receptionist for our division. She squeaked into the phone as I picked up. "Holy shit, Stephanie."

"What?" I asked, trying to keep an eye on the line of print I was reading.

She sounded breathless. "You need to come here, Stephanie."

"Huh? Why?"

"There's someone to see you."

"Who?" I rolled my eyes at the phone. Sometimes I wondered if Connie knew what her job required. It seemed to me she was sure it involved painting her fingernails, and not much else. Oh, I shouldn't be mean like that. I loved Connie. She was one of the few girls here at the office that I enjoyed spending time with. She was a bit older, a bit shorter and a bit bustier than I was, and she was connected.

"I don't know," she whispered. It was like she was afraid to _ask_ who was looking for me. Yeah, she definitely hadn't read the job description.

"Fine. I'll be right up."

I glanced at the clock. It was almost lunchtime anyway, so I shut down my computer and figured I would meet with my mystery visitor and then head out to Pino's for lunch. I grabbed my pocketbook, and then thought better of it. It might look rude if I greeted this person like I was trying to make a get away. I pulled my debit card from my wallet, shoved it into my jacket pocket, ran my hands through the mess called my hair, and headed towards the door.


	2. I Second That Emotion

Characters belong to Janet Evanovich, if you recognize them. This is an alternate reality / and Plum universe short series, (maybe), based loosely on the **soundtrack** for the movie the Big Chill. (but it has nothing at all to do with the movie!)

Maybe you'll think that love will tie you down  
And you ain't got the time to hang around  
Maybe you think that love will make us fools  
And so it makes you wise to break the rules  
Oh little girl

Holy shit is right, I thought as I rounded the corner towards the reception desk. Standing, looking out the window toward the bank of elevators like he hadn't a care in the world was my dance partner from the other night. Connie took one look at my face, which was blanched white in shock, and started to ask if I was ok, when he spun around and smiled at me.

"Stephanie Plum," he stated. It was good thing Connie was sitting down. I unfortunately didn't have the benefit of a seat, and found myself leaning unflatteringly into the wall for support. Holy shit indeed. He walked over to me, and took my hand.

"May I speak with you outside for a moment?" he inquired, all the while he was leading me away from the safety of the office and towards the elevator. I went without comment because I didn't trust my voice quite yet. The elevator was empty when we got in and that made me a little nervous. He stood incredibly close to me, and the scent he gave off was that of pure animalistic maleness. I really needed to lean against something for support. He sensed it, and he obliged. "Babe," he whispered into my ear as he pressed himself against my back, holding me up.

This was crazy. I had no idea who he was and I was almost in his arms in an elevator! I pulled myself away as the door opened, but he just reached for my hand and pulled me out onto the sidewalk in front of the building. I went along. I know it, I'm stupid. I could hear my mother's voice in my head. 'Don't talk to strangers; watch out for strange men.' I was going to end up on the eleven o'clock news because here I was, meekly doing whatever this guy asked. They'd have no idea where to find the body. Connie doesn't even know who I left with. Hell, even I didn't know who I was leaving with! I finally found my voice.

"Uhm, uh…" Smooth Steph, smooth. I scowled sadly at my inability to speak. He was still walking, so I continued following him. We walked around the side of the building toward the parking lot, and there he stopped. I almost walked right into him. "Babe." He said again, like he wanted to say something more, but didn't. He smiled at my flustered expression.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Who is he? How did he find me? Why is he here? What's the meaning and purpose of life? I probably should start the Spanish Inquisition now, so I could field all the questions Marylou was bound to ask, assuming I survived.

"How did you find me?"

"It's what I do."

Cryptic. Great. "Why? Why are you here? What did you need?"

"I wanted to see you." He stepped closer to me, the hint of a smile angling on his lips.

I looked at him blankly.

"To thank you for dancing with me the other night."

"Oh, ok." Alright this is weird. "Who _are_ you?"

"The other half of you."

Ok now he's freaking me out. But I don't want to send him away. Yeah, call me crazy. But damn it, the man is _hot_. "Uhm, I think I need to get back to work."

"Stay Stephanie."

The great communicator that I am, all I could come up with in reply was, "What's your name?"

Hey, he knows mine; I decided I might as well know, so when I dreamed of him again, like I had the last two nights, I could stop thinking of him as 'that guy'. It seemed reasonable at the time, ok?

"Carlos. Have lunch with me Babe."

I didn't want to leave. I was willing to admit that was the problem. I wanted to spend some time with this Carlos. This was way freaky. Marylou was going to have a field day with my weekend!

"Why did you come looking for me?" I asked again.

"I couldn't sleep." I could see that he was trying to tell me something more. He then asked me, "Have you slept?"

"Yes." His eyes lost some of their shine when I told him that. It seemed that he was saddened by my admission, so I quickly qualified it, "But I've dreamt."

"About me?" his voice was soft. His eyes gave away his emotion, although the rest of his face was a carefully crafted blank.

I looked straight into his eyes, shimmering black pools of heat is what they were, before looking away and admitting quietly, "About you."

He stepped closer to me, backing me up against the wall of the building. Hewasthisclose, but not touching me. I could feel the heat of his body against me, his breath caressing my cheek. He brought his hand up to my face, and his finger traced the edge of my jaw, from my ear down to my chin, and then it trailed along my neck, sending absolute shivers to the very core of my being. His finger caressed my collar bone, and then his hand skimmed my upper arm. As it reached my elbow, he leaned in the rest of the way and kissed my lips. He pulled me closer to him and his lips, gently at first and then with more insistence, massaged mine. I was done. Gone. This man owned me.

I felt his tongue trailing along my lower lip and I quivered. He let go of my elbow and his hand reached down till our fingers were entwined. I felt the brick wall against me, and the strong hardness of his body teasing me. His other hand snaked around my waist, pulling me closer to him, if that was even possible. My mouth was singing; his lips were like fire, I gave in to the gentle pressure and his tongue invaded my mouth. I was going to melt into a puddle in a minute, I was sure. Never in my life, ever, had anyone caused me to feel what he was making me feel. I was glad his arms were holding me upright because I don't think I had the power or the presence of mind to remain vertical.

After his kiss ---

(Could you call what had just happened a kiss? That seemed lacking in description. What we just shared was something more significant than a kiss; it was more like he had shown me that an essential part of my being existed that I had never known about….)

---I pulled away, equal parts shocked, turned on, and irritated. I needed to lash out, because my head was spinning, my heart was beating double time, and my stomach was churning.

"Your girlfriend?" I sputtered. What kind of jerk is this?

"I'm sorry?" He didn't back away.

"Does your girlfriend know you make a habit of stalking and assaulting women?"

"Do you think I am stalking you babe?"

The hint of a smile that I was beginning to guess was all you'd ever see graced his face. I noticed he didn't make an excuse about his girlfriend, or about his actions.

"Have lunch with me," he asked again.

I couldn't help it. I said yes. "Let's go someplace else, though. Not around here."

"Afraid of being seen with me?" He cocked one eyebrow up.

"Well, everyone knows me around here." And they know Dickie, I silently added. And I didn't think I felt like explaining to Dickie about letting this man, this Carlos, grope me and kiss me like there was no tomorrow.

"Your choice babe." And he led me to his Jaguar. Shit. I am getting into the car with him. Nope, they'll never find the body, I briefly thought, before settling back into the soft leather seats… 

_Maybe you'd like to give me kisses sweet  
Only for one night with no repeat  
Maybe you'd go away and never call  
And a taste of honey is worse than none at all_

Smoky Robinson

xxxxx

I walked around to my side of the car, and my mind was racing. Jesus. That kiss was something unworldly. This woman could make blind men see. I shook my head, trying to clear it, and got in. I looked over at Stephanie, and something deep inside just felt right. I pulled out into traffic, looking straight ahead. "How long do you get for lunch? What do you like?"

"An hour. I'll eat most anything," she smiled back at me.

I found it too distracting to think of her sitting there; I couldn't talk to her without wanting to look at her. I wanted to touch her again. At the next traffic light, I did just that. I reached out and took her hand from her lap, and I held it in mine; our tangled hands rested on my thigh. She looked at me and shyly smiled. The horn blaring behind me reminded me that this was the only shade of green I'd be getting, so I pulled my eyes from hers and continued to the restaurant.

I pulled into a little Italian place called Giuseppe's. I had been there a few times and the food was good. "Yum, pizza," she said as I came around to take her hand and go inside. Great, at least she wasn't lying about food. Well, pizza is a safe choice.

We took the booth in the back and ordered. I took her hand as soon as the waitress took our menus. I played with her fingers, lightly stroking them, looking at her intensely all the while. Her eyes didn't leave mine; it felt incredibly erotic, touching her like this, losing myself in her eyes. I ran my finger across her engagement ring, and the mood was broken.

"Nice rock," I commented. "You're fiancé's successful?" I didn't give a shit, but I wanted to hear her voice again, and she hadn't spoken another word since we sat down.

"Uhm, yeah, I guess. He's a lawyer. Hopes to make partner this year." She gave me a sad smile.

"When's the wedding?"

"Christmas."

"Nice."

Small talk sucks. I hate it. She's uncomfortable. Probably wondering why in the world she agreed to come with me. "Babe."

"Hmm?" She looked up at me over her straw. Oh, the eyes.

"Thank you for coming to lunch with me. I bet you think this is a bit odd."

"Well, now that you mention it…" She giggled nervously. "What were you talking about before? When you said you were my other half --what on earth did you mean?"

"This is going to sound weird; really, really weird. You're going to probably really regret ever getting in my car half way through. Please, just listen, ok?" God, I hope she will. I can't even believe I am going to tell her this. She stared at me, took my hand and squeezed it. "Ok. I won't run yet."

"You said you dreamt about me?" She nodded. "Were we dancing, babe? Dancing in the air, nothing holding us up but each other?"

Her eyes widened; she sputtered, her soda spraying everywhere. By the time we cleaned up the mess, the pizza arrived.

"Eat," I told her.

"I'm going to tell you a story, babe. My parents came to America in 1960, just before diplomatic relations between Cuba and the U.S. ended. My father took my mother and my two sisters--- Marina, the woman I was dancing with--- and Celia, they were toddlers; and he fled to this country." I smiled as I saw her mind sail to the other night, watching me and my 'girlfriend' dance. Marina will get a laugh out of that!

"He was a professor of economics; highly valued by Castro, but he wanted for his daughters to have the freedoms that Castro was taking away. I was a surprise to them; I didn't come along till my mother was almost 48, my father 62."

"But that's not the story I wanted to tell you. My mother, she was the most beautiful woman I have ever known. But she was waiting for true love. I remember her telling the story of her courtship to my sisters; they were typical American teenaged girls and loved romantic tales. In Cuba in my mother's day, girls were raised to get married and have children. All her sisters and her friends did just that. But not Estella. She told her mother and her father she was going to wait until she found the man who loved her above all else.

My great-grandmother had apparently created fairy tales to entertain her grandchildren when she watched them. And my mother was a romantic soul, and believed them. She knew with all her heart that one day, she would look up, and her eyes would connect with the eyes of the man who owned the other half of her heart, just like her grandmother had told her. She had many suitors; it made her father shake with anger when she would turn them away. She claims she had dreamed of the man she would meet. She would wait for him. Of his nine children, only Estella was home still, and he couldn't understand her obstinate streak.

Then her mother died, and Estella couldn't leave home, because all her sisters and brothers were busy trying to feed their own families; no one could care for their father too. Estella was 29 years old, and spending her nights at the hospital where her father had been taken when he became ill. She slept in the waiting room every night; visited her father every morning, and then went to work.

One night when she arrived, there sat a man in his early 40's who was waiting for his wife to come out of surgery. Estella smiled at him, and he smiled back. She had a feeling of complete and utter calm when she gazed into his eyes, and was certain that she had met the man who owned the other half of her heart. And she was troubled by this, because if this were he, then who was she to be waiting for?

But she stopped worrying about her own heartache when the doctors appeared, because they hadn't saved the man's wife. He was inconsolable. And she stood and walked over to this stranger after the doctors walked away, and she put her arms around this man, and let him find release in his tears on her shoulder.

I'm sure you guessed that man was my father. He and his first wife never had children. He felt the same connection that my mother felt, or at least he always agreed with her that he did when he heard her repeat the story."

I looked at Stephanie and smiled when I told her that. I believed it to be the case. My father was never a demonstrative man. I continued when she smiled back at me. "My grandfather died a few weeks later, and my mother and father got married one month after that, on February 14th.

"Wow," she said softly when I finished telling my story. "Valentines Day. That's a sweet story." She looked at me again. "You said your mother _was_ beautiful. Did she die?" She took my hand as she asked me this, and I was grateful for her small kindness.

"My parents were killed in a plane crash when I was ten. My sister Marina, who you saw me with, is almost 18 years older than me. She raised me, along with her two boys, my cousins."

"That's who you were with the other night? She is beautiful. She looked like she loved you very much."

"Yeah, she is beautiful. And I guess she loves me, most of the time, now that I am out of her house and not a bad influence on her kids any longer."

I laughed silently to myself. It had been a rocky road there with Marina and her husband, thankfully now her ex, and the boys. They were three and five when I moved in. I was somewhat of a rebel, I recalled, and shook my head slightly thinking of the shit I had pulled. And she never, ever gave up on me.

"What are you thinking?" She tugged on my hand and smiled at me. God her smile just went deep inside me. "Oh, I don't think you want to know," I stated firmly, pulling my hand away; and I wasn't sure whether I was afraid to tell her what a fuck-up I had been as a kid, or to tell her all I could think about was having her back in my arms again, her lips sucking on my tongue, my fingers running through those incredible curls. My mind went with the latter for a minute, and I didn't even hear her speaking to me, I was so fixated on the way her lips looked, on how they had tasted.

"Carlos?" She said it with some force, and brought me back. "How did you know about my dream?"

xxxxx

I had to ask him twice how it was he had known my dream. He was staring at me; the intensity of his gaze was somewhat nerve-wracking. I wanted desperately to reach up and wipe my nose or something---did I have pizza sauce on it? Why was he staring? He made me incredibly self-conscious. I reached out for his hand instead of my face, and got his attention.

"I had the same dream—every time I closed my eyes, I kept seeing us dancing in the air, so I stopped trying to sleep, and decided to find you," he finally explained.

I didn't even have an idea about how to answer that. I had spent two restless nights dreaming about him and it had never even occurred to me to try and solve the problem. I was prepared to go and bitch about it to Marylou, to spend another night or week or lifetime dreaming about him, but attempt to solve the problem? I hadn't realized that was an option. Funny.

I looked up at him, and squirmed. He was looking deep inside me. I felt naked. And that could be a good or a bad thing, I realized with a gasp. "I need to get back to work, I'm already gonna be late, I think."

Carlos nodded, and tossed a few bills on the table. He led me back to his car; but before he opened the door, he stepped very close to me, and he leaned in and kissed me. It wasn't the crazy-hot kiss from the alley, but a gentler, expressive exploration. His hand cupped the back of my head and he pulled me closer to him, and I melted into his arms. This was just too easy. He made me feel adored. I didn't even know him. We didn't talk as he drove the short distance to the office. When he pulled up, he grabbed my hand before I could make an exit.

"Babe. Lunch tomorrow?"

"Uh, ok. Yeah. That would be fine."

Dumbass, I thought. I am such a fool. What am I doing?!?!? I bypassed Connie and her questions, because I had NO answers. None. I had just gone off with a total stranger, lip-locked in the alley like in a movie, and been told basically he considered me his destiny. I seriously needed a Marylou night. And it seemed that the gods were on my side all around, because there was a message waiting from Dickie saying he'd be very late tonight.

I rang Marylou's doorbell, balancing some Pino's pizza in one hand, a peace offering to Lenny for letting me borrow his wife. Thankfully it was bowling night so he wasn't going to feel too neglected. Marylou pulled open the door, and gave me a screech hello. She eyed the box, and then swiped the pizza from my hands. Singing out 'I love you girl,' she turned and waddled back into the kitchen. I looked at her, 8 months pregnant, and I felt slightly nauseous.

Oh, dear god, Dickie wants to do _that _to me? Let me tell you a secret. Pregnancy scares the shit out of me. Marylou's stomach was enormous. Much bigger than it had been last time I saw her. There was no _way _she could get that baby out. Uh uh. Nope. Not for me. I know how big it is down there and there's no way I want to try to push something the size of Marylou's belly out it. And if I were successful? Then I have a screeching, pooping _thing_ I have to take care of forever. Babies are cute, don't get me wrong. In magazines. On television. I shuddered again at the thought.

Marylou already had the box open on the table, and had a piece up to her lips. "I've been craving this Hawaiian pie since you called and told me you were bringing dinner." She bit down and a look of bliss covered her face. I grabbed me and Lenny some beer and settled down for dinner. We talked Burg gossip while eating; Marylou was positively _the best_ source for the latest dramas. I guessed I had been working too much; I hadn't heard about half of what she knew!!! Marylou knew I needed to talk; she almost shoved Lenny out the door for his bowling league.

She steered me into the living room, grabbed some pillows and put them on the coffee table and sat down heavily onto the couch. She arranged her legs so that they were elevated because she was swelling. Swelling? One more reason why having a child seemed to be a not so sensible thing….you can't fit your feet into nice shoes. Now _that_ may be the angle I could use with Dickie. He has a thing for my feet in 4 inch heels. Hmmm.

"Ok. Spill. What is going on? Your message sounded frantic. What did you mean, you _met_ someone? I know you aren't gonna tell me you _met_ Bruce Springsteen or Bon Jovi, because girl, if you did that without me, I'd have to hit you." We both laughed. Marylou was 5 feet tall, and 100 pounds, soaking wet. Well currently, with that stomach she probably was a ton, but still.

I took a sip of my Corona and began my tale. I told her about the ball, about how it was like a fairy tale the way we gazed at each other. I enlightened her completely on my dreams of Carlos. How he hadn't slept. How the spot where his hand had touched me while dancing still throbbed. When I described what he looked like, I thought she'd faint. "Yeah, really," I said, "he's that gorgeous."

"Stephanie." She looked intensely at me. "You are not the romantic one of us girls; you don't swoon."

"I know." I grimaced. I had listened to myself and couldn't believe it was me talking. I come from a long line of plugged up, non-emotionally expressive people. It was somewhat embarrassing to know I was all dreamy eyed and mushy. I didn't do that stuff.

"So, then he dropped me off at the office, and I agreed to go to lunch with him again tomorrow." I sat back, emotionally spent.

"You didn't!"

"Yeah, I did. I don't know why. But he asked, and I said yeah, sure, ok. I'm a dumbass. What the hell am I thinking???"

"Ok. Let's review this. God-like man spots you from across the room, dances with you, hunts you down, kisses your face off. What do you know about him?? My god, Steph. If Dickie ever found out about this…You don't want to mess up your relationship with Dickie. You're planning your wedding!"

"I know," I whined. "It's like I had no control over what I was doing. Mare, the way he kissed me. I've never felt that before."

She put her hands up to stop me. "Ok, ok. Let's not go there. What _do_ you know about him?"

I just looked at her. She wasn't actually doing this to me was she? Her eyebrow raised, she crossed her arms, and stared back. "Come on, Stephanie Michelle Plum. What do you know about him?"

"His name is Carlos. He's Cuban. He has two older sisters. His parents are dead."

"That's it? Stephanie!"

I sat and thought for a moment. Remembering his arms around me, his lips caressing mine, I added, "He kisses like he invented the idea. He smells like heaven."

She rolled her eyes. "Steph, focus. His last name? his age, occupation? Where he lives?"

"Uhm, no."

"You know nothing else about him."

"He drives a really nice Jag. It's an older model and it's black."

"That's it?"

"Yup, that's it. No wait. He can _dance_."

"Damn it girl, all you've really told me is that he is as gorgeous as a god. That's well and good, but what does he want from you? Does he know you are engaged? How do you know he's not married, or running from the mob, or something? How did he find you? Who _does_ that? He sounds to me like a rich spoiled playboy, who knows he's hot shit. Why would you risk everything; your happiness with Dickie, your future?"

"Mare, it was just lunch!" Ok, now I was getting a bit steamed. I mean, yeah, I was a bit impulsive, going off with a stranger. But he isn't one any more, right? And nothing happened. Well, nothing _bad_ happened. And besides who said I was happy? I took a deep breath. Marylou was my oldest, dearest friend; I know she was just looking out for me. It's what friends do, and I did appreciate it.

"Marylou, I promise I will be careful." I stood up and went over to give her a hug. "And I will find out all about him tomorrow, to ease your mind, ok? It's just lunch, Mare." I grabbed by bag and said my goodbyes, because I wanted to be in bed and asleep before Dickie got home. "Marylou? Thanks for caring about me. I love you."

Xxxxx

I arrived at Steph's office just at noon on Tuesday. The receptionist looked up when I pulled open the door, squeaked something unintelligible and picked up the phone. Odd woman. "She'll be right out," she said, waving a sheaf of paper in front of her face.

I was tired. I had another sleepless night. Last night however, was probably because I couldn't shake the feeling of her in my arms, and I wanted more than anything to have continued our little interlude somewhere more private. That just led me to the whole issue of what the hell was I doing? I hadn't ever fallen for someone like this. I prided myself somewhat on my aloof, love'em and leave'em attitude. I liked a simple life. Messed up once already with Rachel, but my ideal relationship had as little complication as possible. And having all those memories of my two sisters dating was enough to make me very aware that girls were complicated. I figured that out as a toddler!

But this chick had gotten under my skin. Why the hell was I putting myself through this? She was engaged, and didn't seem like the type to fool around. Mores the pity. I really needed to get laid. No. I really needed to lay _her_. Shit. That's crass. But I wasn't joking, I thought, feeling all the blood rushing to my dick. I needed her. Thank God she finally came around the corner before I totally had my mind in her pants. My brain _was_ in my pants. Shit. Look at her.

She smiled at me, and I offered her my hand, groaning inside. The elevator door wasn't fully closed before I had backed her against the wall. I leaned into her with my body, and my hands captured her face between my palms. I bent down and pressed my lips to hers. She moaned slightly and shifted to get closer. Our lips touched again and I felt the fire in her. If the elevator had gotten stuck right there, you wouldn't have heard me complain. Unfortunately it opened, and three suits were standing waiting to get on, so I grabbed her hand and we exited.

"What do you want for lunch?" I asked, as I held the door open. I knew what I wanted and it wasn't on any local menu.

"Oh, whatever you want is fine," she smiled at me. "I'm easy."

Damn it, I know she didn't mean it like that but shit! I looked at her and my desire must have been apparent because suddenly she was blushing. She put her hand to her mouth, and started giggling. I pulled her close to me, "It's not nice to tease like that, babe," I whispered into her ear. I felt her shiver. Good, both of us can be frustrated.

"This is a nice car," she told me as I began to back out of the parking spot. "It looks like it would cost a lot." Uh huh. Now she's going to try and figure out what I'm worth. All flipping women are the same. Expensive car, young guy….Damn. I was hoping she was different. I glared at her and turned to the road. "You like Mexican?" I chose to ignore her questions. I really wanted to have her be different.

"Ignore them, babe," I said as we walked into the restaurant, and the guys behind the counter started making kissy-face noises. 'Muy bonita, Carlos.' 'Si, you are a lucky bastard.' 'Always with another pretty girl on your arms.' 'Why don't you bring us a pretty girl sometimes?'

"Come here often?" she rolled her eyes toward the guys up front.

"The food's good." I growled at her. I was not getting in a better mood with their bullshit.

After we ordered, I took her hand in mine, like yesterday, and I just played with her fingers. I was a little aggravated. She had seemed different than other girls. I knew she was someone special, but it didn't take her long at all to decide to calculate my value. What the fuck is wrong with women?

"Hey," she finally got my attention. "Carlos? I keep talking to you and you aren't listening at all. Did I say something wrong? Why are you so angry looking?"

"Sorry." Shit. I didn't hear her talking to me. I have no idea what she asked. "I'm sorry. My mind was wandering. How did you sleep last night?"

"Ok. I didn't wake up with any weird dreams….but I had a hard time turning off my brain to even fall asleep. Did you sleep well?"

"No. As a matter of fact, I didn't babe." I held her hand between mine. "I kept feeling your lips on me, and I didn't sleep well at all."

Her eyes grew large, and her mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. God, I could look at her forever. I took my hand and pushed her mouth closed with a smile on my face. Damn, she is intoxicating. We were still sitting like that five minutes later when Rosa brought our meal to us.

"Babe." I looked at her again, as we finished our lunch and decided to just ask her what had been going through my mind for the past ten minutes. "Take tomorrow off. Go with me to the beach."

"I can't do that!"

"I want to spend more than an hour with you."

What I wanted was to have her to myself for the day. Marina had a house at Point Pleasant and it would be good. We could get to know each other better that way. I could hold her……God what the hell am I thinking? What am I planning after that?

"Carlos." She fidgeted. She looked panicky. Maybe I went too far.

"I don't know anything about you. I can't just leave! What about Dickie?" she added quietly. She's thinking about doing it. Please say yes. Please.

"What do you want to know?" I picked up her hand again. I just needed to be touching her.

"Why, I don't know. Everything. I don't even know your name."

"Carlos." I smiled at her.

She gave me an exasperated grimace. "Your full name? I don't even know that. I don't know how old you are, where you live, what you do. I know nothing about you." It all came out in a rush. She was really nervous.

I gave her a small grin. "Babe."

"My full name is Ricardo Carlos Manoso. I'll be 24. My legal address is in Miami, but I'm staying here with my sister. I'm on leave. I am a soldier, in the Army. I'll be starting Ranger school in a few weeks. Will you go with me to the beach tomorrow?"

"You have a one track mind, don't you?" She laughed.

"I want to spend time with you. What's so odd about that, babe?" I pulled her hand to my lips, and began to kiss her hand. I couldn't help myself. She sat mesmerized, watching me as I kissed each finger, my eyes never leaving hers. I was so lost in her eyes that I never saw Rosa come by with the check.

"I have to go back to work," She finally broke my gaze and looked down to the bill. "Right. The beach, tomorrow?" I asked again.

"Umhn, yeah. I guess. I mean I would like to. I don't know, Carlos. This is all so odd. I don't know how I am supposed to act."

"Act like you want to see me tomorrow babe." I put my arm around her as we left the restaurant. When we got to my car, I reached for her and held her to me. She settled into my embrace as though we were molded from the same clay.

"I do. All I think about is you Carlos. Ever since dancing with you Saturday, every time I close my eyes, I see you. I'm confused. I don't know what to want. I don't know what is supposed to happen." She looked up at me. "I'm getting married," she whispered.

"So you said."

"And you said you are in the army? For how long? Where will you be? We can't 'BE' can we?"

"We can explore this, for a bit, can't we? I've most of the summer. You're not married yet. You don't seem happy babe, if you ask me; you don't seem like you want to get married at all."

She pushed away from me harshly when I commented, but I didn't regret it. The one overwhelming feeling I continued to get about her was how unhappy she seemed. Melancholy even. What kind of a bride was that?

"What do you know about it? You don't know me, or Dickie. Or anything about my life! I'm happy! I have a wonderful man who loves me, and he is going to give me what every girl dreams of!" Her tone was sharp, angry; and it sounded so much to my ears like she was trying to convince herself as much as convince me.

I walked over to the corner of the parking lot, where she had retreated to in anger and frustration. "Is it what _you_ dream of, babe?" I gently asked as I ran my hand across the top of her head. She was curled up on the retaining wall, her head on her knees. I sat next to her, and took a good look at her face. Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears, and her face was splotchy with anger, or embarrassment.

"Of course it is. It's what anyone would want Carlos. Someone to love them." Her voice was shaky; as she spoke a tear escaped. I caught it with my finger.

"You have that babe. You have that." I gathered her to me and held her quietly.

In that case I don't want no part  
Well that that would only break my heart  
Well if you feel like loving me  
If you got the notion  
I second that emotion  
Well if you feel like loving me  
If you got the notion  
I second that emotion

_I Second that Emotion, Smoky Robinson._

xxxxxx

"So, you're gonna go?" her voice was full of resignation, concern. Something I couldn't exactly identify, but it made me feel loved to hear it there anyway.

"Yeah, I am. Marylou, it's the craziest thing. I know that. But he's like a drug." How could I make her understand? I didn't understand it myself.

"Steph. So you found out his name. And what he does. A soldier? Come on, he's probably just looking for a naive piece of ass to fool around with till he's off leave….I'm sorry Steph, I am calling it like I see it…." I heard the unspoken hesitation, and nervous tone in her voice, and couldn't even be angry with her for saying that. It was something that had occurred to me too. I know I'm not sophisticated, or worldly. It probably was tattooed across my forehead. What was I _doing_?

"Mare, Dickie is going to be in NYC till Friday with this case. I just got off the phone with him before I called you. It just feels like it's supposed to happen." Like I shouldn't toy with fate. Maybe it's cold feet. Early on still, but maybe that's all it is. God I hope that's all it is. Cold feet, I mean, not fate. I do mean that, don't I? Damn I am so confused.

After I hung up with Marylou, I crashed onto my bed in my thinking position, spread eagled on top of the covers. I could still feel his hands caressing my cheek as I sat there, crying in front of a total stranger for chrisssake! I'm such a freakin' loser. I'm not used to being pursued, that's for sure. I was never the girl all the guys in school were panting after.

Of course that brought my mind to the night Joe Morelli came sniffing around. And because I was so naive, because I wasn't used to being chased, I fell for his little speech, hook, line and sinker. And I gave it up on the floor of a bakery. God damn him! I was to this day astonished at how stupid I could be! When I smashed my car into his ass a few years ago, I felt a great cleansing breeze blow over me. I finally was free of his foul treatment of me. But I would never forget it.

Would I remember it though, when I needed to? What had I learned then that I needed to take with me tomorrow? Why the hell am I going to call Carlos and say yes? Because he really _does_ feel like your other half, Stephanie. You know it. You can't deny that you haven't ever, not for a minute, ever felt this way. I rolled over, mentally kicking myself, as I reached for the phone. I needed to hear his voice.

I realized I had spent far too much time trying to decide what to wear this morning, as I glanced at the clock. Shit, I still have to shower! I ran to the bathroom and turned on the spray. As I scrubbed, I thought about our phone call last night. Oh, what a way to fall asleep, with his voice murmuring in my ear.

I had paged him and he really did return my call. I let out a deep breath as the phone rang. I was sure he wouldn't call back. Damn it Steph, this isn't 9th grade! Take a chill pill. I gathered my courage and answered. His voice was even sexier on the phone; I guessed it might be because I couldn't get distracted by looking at him. He didn't seem all that comfortable just chatting, but what guy had ever found talking on the phone a wonderful diversion? After I told him I would meet him in the morning, we spoke about nothing at all. I was tired; emotionally overloaded, lying in bed. His voice lulled me to sleep, and my dreams last night were of him. I had awakened at 2:30 am, to find the phone cord dangling on the floor.

I drove to the Tasty Pastry and parked my car in the municipal lot across the street. I spotted his Jag before I saw him, standing by the door of the shop, a box of donuts and some coffees already in hand. I dropped my pocketbook as I opened the door, and had to go scrambling under the car, ass in the air, to retrieve my brush, my suntan lotion, and my can of hairspray. (Hey, I'm a Jersey girl, and he's taking me to the _beach_!) I dusted myself off as I walked over to him, trying not to embarrass myself further. Good thing I wore cute panties was all I could think as my denim mini skirt had pretty much given him a free show.

"Babe." He gave me a grin I had already identified as predatory, that of the big bad wolf. It made me shiver, but it wasn't fear I was feeling. He handed me a coffee, and I grabbed the box of donuts too, to investigate what he had chosen. I had been a sales girl at the Tasty Pastry through high school; I found you could learn a lot about people by the donuts they ate.

I peeked into the box, and found four Boston Crème's. He better not think those were his, I thought, as I grimaced at his other choice. Plain crullers-- un-powdered, un-dipped, un-decorated in any fashion. And only two. Hmmm. He is either truly my other half; the _good_ half, which knows this stuff is bad for you and has great control; or we may be fighting before we reach the beach, if he thinks I am going to share those Boston Crème's. I looked at him through my lashes and smiled. This could get interesting.

"Ready to go, Babe?"

I nodded, holding tight to the box of donuts. He raised his eyebrow at me and almost shook his head. Ooh, dear, I think he plans on fighting me for the Boston crèmes! I wonder if it will end up being a physical contact kind of thing…will we end up rolling around somewhere, trying to claim the last donut? I was lost in my little fantasy. The idea of having to rid him of all that sugary sweetness that got stuck on him with my tongue….Crap, Steph, cool off!!! What the heck! My mind was working overtime here, fantasizing about this guy. This, this soldier, this stranger.

I looked over at him. He hadn't said another word since we took off. Now, me, I'm a talker. Especially when I am nervous, I think filling the air with rambling kind of covers a variety of feelings. I am sitting here, after having all these thoughts of licking him and hoping he'd want to lick me back and he doesn't even comment on the weather? So, of course I had to open my mouth.

"Erhm…."

Okay, so Toastmasters International isn't looking for me to be their spokesperson, ha ha. I knew this was a bad idea. He turned his head fractionally, but seemed to have both eyes still on the road. He made no further comment either, just turned his head. That might have been a smile, if maybe he was afflicted with lock-jaw or something. I stopped looking at him and began to twist my fingers together in my lap. What the hell am I doing? I was starting to get a queasy feeling. Maybe Marylou was right. I was two seconds away from screaming 'let me out of the car' when he took his hand off the steering wheel and reached out for my twisting hands, and stilled them.

"Babe."

His voice calmed me. He let go for a moment and turned on the CD, and soft jazz came from the speakers. Ok that's a surprise. He didn't strike me as jazzy…more, I don't know, hip-hop, or rap? Or even rock. Me, I'm classic rock. A bit heavy metal. But at least the quiet stopped. And he picked up my hand again. But he didn't speak. I chuckled to myself. I knew a few women who would say he was perfect, based solely on the fact he didn't talk. He looked over; again, I was paying attention and saw the slight movement.

"Care to share, babe?" His eyebrow shot up as he asked me.

"Huhn? Oh, no, I was just thinkin'…" I mumbled. He is going to think I am the stupidest person he ever met!

"Babe." And eyes back on the road. Fine. I would settle for his hand.

"This really is a nice car." Okay, so I was able to be silent for exactly 24 minutes. Sue me. I just felt odd. I needed to know he wanted to be here with me; right now it almost felt like he was obligated to drive me somewhere, not like he suggested it. I just wanted to have him talk to me.

"It is."

Nothing else. Not another word. Ok, now I am done, alright? "Uh, so Carlos is there anything particular you want to tell me? I mean, you know, you are being…" (a prick, I wanted to say, really!!! He's being a prick)… "somewhat, I don't know, quiet." There. I said it. He'll either tell me what's on his mind--- there has to be something bothering him, or he'll turn the car around.

_Maybe you'll think that love will tie you down  
And you ain't got the time to hang around  
Maybe you think that love will make us fools  
And so it makes you wise to break the rules_

xxxx

Damn stupid idea. What on earth possessed me to ask her to the beach? There's gotta be an easier way to get laid. I'm not even gonna get any; I can feel it now. Shit. If she asks me one more fucking question about my car. I let go of her hand and just drove. Oh, quit being a jerk, my sane side said. She has no clue as to why you are brushing her off. She doesn't know you, or your car or your stupid assed past or anything. I glanced down and saw the needle on the speedometer hit a place I'd really get reamed for…and my knuckles where white. I took a deep breath, trying to find my center; breathe, Manoso. Breathe. Getting pulled over for reckless driving three days before having to report to Ft. Benning wouldn't be wise.

Shit. I knew that ultimately was what was bothering me. When I had gotten home last night there had been a message on the fridge. I'd been told to report on Sunday. Fuck the summer. I thought I had all this time to decompress; I could deal with all the issues of the divorce, and the rest of the legalities, before going back. Maybe spend some time with Steph, and get to know her; that seemed an ideal use of my free time.

Whatever, it was blown now, because instead of the beginning of August, I had to leave tomorrow. Damn. And I wanted this. Becoming a Ranger was something I had decided on a few years ago. But I only got the balls back in the spring to apply. And now? It was just an irritation. An interruption.

This wasn't good. I had learned to compartmentalize while in the Army. I had learned to calm myself, control my temper, and avoid temptation. All things that would be needed if I were to become a successful Ranger. All things I had needed to learn in order to stay alive, which is how I ended up in the army to begin with, I thought to myself.

I finally looked over at Stephanie. Wow. She really had me tied in knots, I realized.

"Babe, I like to drive when I drive, ok?" she nodded her head, but seemed dejected. I turned back to the road, and I left the conversation unfinished. That actually was the truth. Driving time, I became one with the sound of the engine, feeling it rumbling and purring under me, feeling the power… it was a distraction to talk.

And truth be told I didn't want to disrupt my fantasy that she was the one for me by realizing she was still trying to analyze my worth. Just like Rachel; just like every woman I've ever met. She'll be sadly disappointed in any event. Of course, I could _tell_ her. Why the hell am I putting myself through this? She is engaged to marry that lawyer. She shouldn't care one way or another.

The weather really was perfect for the beach. We arrived at Marina's cottage before lunch, and I pulled into the driveway. I opened Steph's door and grabbed her hand as she got out. "Babe." I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her to me. Oh, yeah, this was nice. She didn't hesitate, but settled into my embrace like we had been doing this for a lifetime. She smelled fresh, like the sunshine, and I breathed in her scent deeply, relaxing and finding comfort in her arms. She rested her head on my shoulder and seemed content to let me just feel her close. Finally, I realized we needed to move on. But I didn't like it. It meant having to face the truth about things. And I wasn't particularly interested in going there.

"So you like the Jag?" I asked as I unlocked the front door.

"The Jag? I'm sorry?"

"My car--- you keep asking about it," I nodded towards the driveway as I closed the door on the heat, and felt the dim coolness of the cottage wash over me. It was a memory feeling that overcame me whenever I came here. My childhood.

"Oh, right. I'm not really a car person…. But yeah, it's nice. Fast. And it's kinda sexy…. like you are." She beamed at me, and then lowered her lashes as if embarrassed by her admission. Her face spoke volumes, I realized, and what I read there told me she was perplexed as to why I was asking. Hmmm…she wasn't trying to figure dollars and cents. Different. Shit. How do I deal with this?

Head-on, Manoso, you know it. Lay it on the line. She's engaged for god sake. I gave her the nickel tour, leaving her at the hallway bathroom to change into her bathing suit. I changed into board shorts in the master bedroom, pulled on a black tank top, stuck my feet into some sandals, and headed for the kitchen area.

Sticking my head into the fridge, I was rewarded by finding a few six packs of Corona, and not much else. I grabbed a few beers by their necks and began to rummage around in the cabinets looking for something to eat. Two bags of open potato chips--- sour cream and BBQ, a box of pretzel sticks and some tuna. Right. Lunch out somewhere.

I was sitting on the deck, the glass doors open to the great room, when my heart began to beat wildly. I had begun to recognize that for a signal that she was nearby, so I called out to her.

"Babe." I looked her up and down with an appreciative eye. Her legs went to her neck! She had on little neon green flip-flops, and incredible calves. My eyes wandered up some more, past her knees, and I got a glimpse of sexy thighs before being stopped by a sundress. It was bright green as well, with white flowers all over it, and it was hardly what one would call a cover-up. From where I sat, all it did was entice me more. I managed to look at her face, eventually. Damn it man, you're in trouble. And she didn't seem to know it. She smiled, and the smile was too innocent. She had no idea how alluring she was. If she realized what I was thinking, she hid it well.

"It's nice here," she said, grabbing a chair and pulling it beside me. I nodded towards the beer on the table, and she grinned and took one. And she took a healthy swig, too, I noticed. Liquid courage, oh yeah.

"My father left this place to my sister." I spoke quietly, almost to myself. Memories of my childhood tended to make me melancholy. I looked around and could see Mami and Papi, and it always hurt. I looked at the old rose bushes, now abandoned and growing wild, because they just didn't mean the same thing to Rina as they did to Mami. I forgot Steph was there, actually, till I heard her cough. Just tell her, and be done with it, fool.

I looked over at her, and my heart beat faster. She's gotten to me. I don't normally share. It's just not my nature to talk about myself, never has been. But I started telling her anyway. "I told you he was an economics professor, right? He invested in two things, real estate and insurance policies. He wanted my mother to be well-provided for, since he was so much her senior. After he got to America, he scrimped and saved many years; we never had a lot of extras. He always drove a used car. He was frugal. When he was 71, he finally made his one dream come true."

"I went with him to the car showroom; he paid cash for that Jag outside. It was his pride and joy. And he got a certain satisfaction, I could tell, because the salespeople saw him as just some old Spic, wandering around touching things he shouldn't touch. His accent was heavy; he was a large, bulky man. He didn't fit the expectation of someone to buy a Jag. All his life he waited to buy that car….there had always been a photo of a Jaguar on his office wall. I told you he died at 72…the next year, with my mother. My sisters agreed to save the car for me. They each have beach houses ….he invested smartly."

"It left an impression on me. This car is a huge reminder, no matter how far I go, that I will be looked down on because of my color, my speech. I know I have an accent…we spoke only Spanish at home. People want to make me feel inferior… but I don't know many people who have the strength of character to hold out for so many years to accomplish a dream. Someday, I will have a garage full of expensive cars of my own…."

I looked over at Stephanie when I was finished telling her my story, and my heart clenched, because she was so open. I could see on her face that she felt the same emotion I always felt. I wasn't used to opening up. Sharing like that, well, it wasn't me. I was more about action, and not about introspection. It was somewhat embarrassing to me.

"Oh, Carlos, it's great that you have such a wonderful memory of your dad." She stood as she spoke and sat down next to me on the chaise. "He was your hero, wasn't he?" She spoke quietly, her hand on my shoulder. Damn it, I am not going to get emotional. She was so close to making me lose my rough exterior. You don't last long on the street if you are a wuss. I just don't do that. I shrugged, and hoped it came off how I wanted it to look…unimpressed, detached. A pointless exercise. She was my other half.

She looked deeply into my eyes, and smiled. Then she jumped off the chaise, and ran into the house. I shook my head, silently laughing at her. She made me happy. I wasn't used to the feeling. As I pondered what it all meant, and how I was to deal with these new emotions, she came back and handed me a bottle of suntan lotion.

"I burn pretty easily Carlos; I don't have your luscious dark skin." And with that she turned away from me, whipping off her dress and presented her back to me to slather lotion on. I don't know if she had an ulterior motive, but my mind was definitely distracted from the car, and my father. Her back was smooth and pale, and as I began to spread the coconut scented lotion along her shoulders I lost all other thought. I pulled her down to sit on the chaise, and I scooted behind her, so that we were close together, her back to my front.

I could feel the heat radiating off her body; she was intoxicating to me. I bent my head towards her, and placed a kiss on the back of her neck, where the swimsuit tied. I ran my hands up her forearms, and pulled her back into my embrace, never stopping the little nips along her shoulder, and under her ears. Ohh, man. I was going to burst. I wanted to feel her under me. My hands ran along the edge of her bikini top, slipping under it to spread more lotion, and they slid along the strap, around to the front, and my fingers grazed the bottoms of her breasts beneath the cloth. I tugged her closer to me, sucking on her neck as my hands cupped her.

I heard her breath catch as my thumbs rubbed her nipples roughly, and I shifted again so I could kiss her on her lips. She leaned back into my shoulder and turned her head---our lips met, my fingers explored her warmth and we both were lost.

She is the one who finally put an end to it. God knows I couldn't have. I wanted nothing more in my life than to bury myself inside her; I would die a happy man if I could feel her legs around me, and her voice screaming my name. I could imagine it now, and the pressure of her back against me was torture. She twisted her head and breathlessly leaned out of my embrace, my fingers sliding up to her waist, gently capturing her against me.

"Carlos, I—I can't," she finally whimpered as she pulled away and slid to the end of the chaise and tried to steady her breathing. I was pissed. Seriously pissed. At myself, at her, at her stupid conscience and at her fiancé, Dickie. He wasn't what she needed, I told myself. She should know better. I was what she needed, look at how we fit together, our minds and hearts beat in concert. And what the fuck was I offering her? Nothing. I couldn't look at her. I knew I had come really close to not paying her any attention when she said no, because I didn't want to believe she meant it.

Shit. God damn fucking shit! I bolted off the seat, and the chaise tumbled out from under me, crashing sideways into the table, knocking that over too. I grabbed up an empty beer bottle from the deck and hurled it for all I was worth across the street where it landed with a soft, unsatisfying thud in the dunes. I stared at it as it gently rolled to a stop. Fuck. I ran my hands over my head, lacing my fingers behind me and squeezing my head with my arms as hard as I could, trying to stop the screaming that echoed in my head. Fuck. I couldn't face her. I didn't turn to look at her, I just remained staring across at the beach across the road.

I heard Stephanie step up behind me, and she put her hand on my shoulder. I spun about, dropping my arms, and I could see the sadness in her eyes. I knew I had blown it. "Babe…," I started to apologize; it killed me to see the hurt in her eyes. She shook her head, telling me to stop, and she took my hands in hers. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

No. No. I was the jerk. I couldn't speak, all I could do was stare into her eyes, and I saw the love and the forgiveness, and the acceptance.

I dropped her hands and stalked inside. I needed to clear my head, and I couldn't do it with her standing there, looking at me, making me feel about 3 feet tall, and stupid and coarse and…god damn it. I wanted to make love to her for the rest of my life and I acted like she was just an easy lay. I had stripped by now, and started the shower…I needed a long cold one, and I needed to find a way to get her to accept my apology, I needed to find a way to tell her I was leaving. This day had turned to shit.

xxxxx

I picked up the broken beer bottle from the deck, and righted the table and the chaise. I glanced across the street and saw the other bottle lying against the beach grass. I shuddered. He was so upset; I didn't know what to do or to say. I shouldn't have allowed him to kiss me like that; he must think I am the worst kind of slut. I wandered into the house to get rid of the bottle, to look for him; to see if we couldn't salvage the rest of the day, and I heard the water running.

I grinned despite myself. Cold shower, I thought, because I could still feel him pressed against me, the hard muscles of his chest melting into my back, and damn, it was good. _He_ was good. And what the heck are we trying to do here? Trying to prove? I looked out the window, and I could see the waves of the ocean crash onto the sand, and I followed my base instincts (—you know the whole fight or flee wiring? Mine's wired for flee---) and left the house. I grabbed the beer bottle he had thrown and walked over to a garbage can, and then I found the wooden stairs and headed for the water.

The ocean has always had a calming effect on me. I don't know exactly what it was that did it, but I loved the water. I loved the exhilaration of the beach in the deep winter, when the only other life out there with you was the birds; and I simply adored the beach in summer. I slipped back to my childhood as I hit the sand, holding my flip-flops and wiggling my toes in the hot, rough texture, feeling it ooze between my toes.

I ran as best as I could to the waters edge, and stood, with the water lapping around my ankles. I watched my feet with the same awe that I had as a child as they disappeared, wave after wave, until I couldn't balance any longer. Oh, for childhood again, when the only problem in the world was who was going to be my best friend that week.

The roar of the ocean was stupendous. I had reached that magic part of the beach, where the sounds of civilization disappeared and all you knew was the earth, the sounds of the waves blocking out all other things. My mind emptied then, as it always did. The waves were hypnotic, and my heart began to keep pace with their ebb and flow. The sun was hot, and the water was cool. The breeze was a perfect blend of warm sunshine and moist, briny coolness.

I stood, and absorbed the power that was emanating from the pounding surf. I looked towards London, or would it be Spain? Italy? I'm not good with geography, but I looked far, at the curving horizon, broken by one looming dark orange freighter. Otherwise it was a pristine swath of blue on blue-green, with wispy clouds. All is right in the world, or it should be, when standing here, facing the hugeness of earth, the un-ending pulse. The water that caressed my foot had traveled the earth probably. And someday, in a hundred years, that very drop might reach the other side of the world, without my assistance or knowledge. Or approval. I began to walk, the sun to my back, the water dancing along trying to catch me. My flip-flops hung in my hand, my toes curled in the moist sand, and the breeze blew in my face, keeping me cool and creating that odd feeling of walking in place that occurs only on the edge of the ocean.

The feeling of being one with the world, the somewhat thoughtful, introspective Stephanie appeared when I was at the beach. I wasn't normally a big picture person, and I wasn't sappy or philosophical on a good day. But at the beach…. I lost track of the time, and of why I was here, alone, as I bent randomly to collect a shell, or to watch a child race against time to build a moat to hold back impending doom. I nodded to the old couples sitting under their beach umbrellas, and I skirted the teens with their surf boards, trying desperately to impress on waves that weren't up to the task.

Eventually, I would have to think of Dickie, and how I had just almost cheated on him; of Carlos who probably thought I was a tease; of just what would happen next. But that would be later. My head was blissfully vacant. Right now, the ocean was my only concern. Other than acknowledging that I was running from it all, I was good. Denial was a friend I had made a long time back, and we were close. Heck, I still thought someday I would be able to fly.

When someone is running in the sand, and they don't want you to know they are there, you can't hear them. Did you know that? I found that out when suddenly Carlos was standing in front of me, a sheen of sweat covering his finely sculpted chest. His breath wasn't even ragged; he looked like he could have gone another 10 miles before having to stop to recover. Impressive. I stood still, eyes wide in surprise, as he took my hand, and he smiled as he found it full of seashells. He transferred them to his shorts pocket, took my flip-flops and tossed them beyond the surfs reach. He pulled off the towel that was around his neck and tossed it with the shoes, and grabbed me into his embrace, burying his face in my neck. He whispered, over and over again, Babe, babe, I am so sorry. I am so sorry.

We were the only two people on the beach as far as I was concerned. I could feel his heart beating against me, and although he didn't look winded, it was beating wildly. My heart tried to keep pace with his, and I could hear his heartbeat with my head against him. His arms felt safe. I shook my head, "No, Carlos, I should never have--"

"Shhh, babe. Let's not, ok?" And I agreed. We both understood. Maybe later we would talk about it, but right now, no, we didn't need to. We just needed to hold each other. This was all so eye-opening to me. Is this what everyone is talking about? Do they think Dickie and I share _this_? I really am missing something, but it would explain why people think I would be happy. Something to ponder.

While I had been walking, and my mind was attempting to be blank, my subconscious had been going at it big time. I didn't know if I was strong enough to make the decision that I felt would come in time. If I spent much more time around Carlos, I don't think I could resist him. And I wasn't sure if I wanted to. But I don't know that I could leave Dickie. My mother would die of embarrassment. And to what end? What am I expecting to happen here? He's here for a few weeks. I don't know him, he's not from around here, I have no, oh, I don't know. I don't know, I don't know.

I was getting tense, and Carlos could tell apparently, because he pushed me away from him a bit to look into my eyes. His eyes held a hint of laughter as he said, "Babe, I smell something burning."

So of course, I smacked him. (Hey, you would have done the same thing!) He laughed, a full rich laugh, head thrown back, and he pulled me closer to him again. "You are one of a kind, babe, you know that?" His arm draped comfortably around my shoulder and we began to walk up the beach, stopping to collect our things.

"There's not much to eat at the cottage, we can have lunch up on the boardwalk, ok?"

We strolled along the boardwalk, hand in hand, looking to the world like two lovers in love, I guessed, based on the silly smiles of the older people. And there was a certain shall we say, cat-like grin plastered on my face as the younger girls all walked into things and dropped their ice cream because they were craning their heads to look at Carlos. I felt giddy. It was stupid, because he wasn't mine; I was borrowing him; play-acting or something.

We sat at the edge of the boardwalk at a fish fry place. Carlos sat next to me on the bench seat, and it felt nice having his warm body touching mine. We were definitely in the beach casual category as to attire---I had run off without bothering to put on my sundress! We spoke of inconsequential things; it was a way for us to find that neutral place where we would be comfortable, then we were sure to open up again. It felt right.

The waitress almost dropped our drinks; she was very attentive to our needs during our meal, and it started to cause steam to come out of my ears. Carlos looked at me, and his grin lit up my world. "Babe. It's not a compliment to me, but to my parents, you know? I had nothing to do with my looks."

"Umh, yeah, Carlos? Look in the mirror much? I'd guess you work out a lot, right?"

He just gifted me again with his smile. "I'd prefer to look at you, babe."

Mid afternoon on a Wednesday is a good time to occupy a table for a long stretch, even at the beach. No one was waiting to take our place, and so we sat, and people watched, and held hands. Carlos seemed distracted after some time though. I wasn't used to the quiet spaces he seemed to like. It was probably my insecurity, but I was sure he was bored.

"Carlos?" I shifted in the seat, twisting to look at him. "What's wrong? You seem awfully quiet. Is it about earlier? Because I am sorry I may have led you on. I wish we had met some other time. I really like you. I enjoy being around you." You make me feel something I never felt before, I added silently, but in his eyes I saw that he knew I was saying that too.

"Babe." He sighed. "These last few days, it's like a whole new life. I never knew that I would ever feel these things. I didn't really believe my mother when she told her stories; that it was true, you know? I heard it as a fairy tale, but I'm not romantic, I never expected to find that it could happen."

He picked up my hand and he idly caressed it as he spoke. "I know I told you I would be around for a while, right? Through the summer?

Last night, I was told to report to Fort Benning on Sunday. My Ranger class is forming." I looked at him, eyes widening, comprehension dawning. To the outside world we looked perfect; in love, together, sharing--- yes, it was a façade. But on my side of the roped-in seating area, I was finding out what it felt like to have your heart broken.

I felt tears forming at the edges of my eyes, and I grasped my hand from his to brush them away. This is ridiculous, I thought, wiping first one and then the other eye. I couldn't look at him. I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from bursting into outright tears, and then he took his hand and he wiped the next tear for me, and I lost it. He pulled me gently into his arms and he rubbed circles into my back as I bawled.

Get it together, Steph. I willed my tears to stop, and finally got the gaspy, spurty breathing under control.

I couldn't explain it to you. I'm not that emotional a person. Really. Or maybe no one ever caused you to care this much, the other Steph, the one who got me into trouble all the time, whispered in my ear.

"Babe." Carlos breathed into my hair, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine I don't know what came over me. I just…I …. I have no idea." I finally said on a sigh.

He pulled me back into his embrace, scooting over so we were molded together as one, and we just sat like that for the longest time. Occasional hiccups from me, stoic silence from him.

"So," I finally asked, "You have to leave on Sunday?" That's only four days, I thought. Damn, a week ago, I didn't even know he existed and now I was going to have to give him up in a few days.

"No. I need to for Miami tomorrow. Take care of things before I leave. Florida is my legal residence."

"Tomorrow?" I whispered. "So this it? Today?"

"Yeah. Babe, I'm sorry. I wish it were different."

I stood up and removed myself from the orbit of his persona. I couldn't get far enough away, fast enough. His pull was strong, and while I was walking away from him, he was walking toward me, and he reached for my hand. I stopped, and turned to look at him.

"Babe. Look at me. We don't have to discuss it; it won't change anything. We can just have today, alright?"

I nodded, my arms pulling him to me and I felt the crush of his embrace as tears began again. "I'm sorry. I can't stop crying. This is stupid," I muttered. His body shook with silent laughter, and he whispered in my ear, "Babe, its ok. Look at me." His fingers chugged under my chin to make me comply, and when I did, he placed a kiss gently on my forehead. His arms squeezed me tightly and we leaned together, on the railing of the boardwalk, absorbed in each other.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. True to his word, we didn't discuss the past, or tomorrow, or next week. Or the rest of our lives. It was about today. And we had a blast. I have never had such an easy relationship with a man before. He was content to be by my side, to hold my hand, to make me smile.

But in the back of my head was a niggling fear. What if he asked me to wait for him? It didn't seem like he would—he too seemed to accept that the timing sucked and we were fated to be apart. But what if he did? I certainly can't ask him if he wanted me to wait. That would be too embarrassing when he blows me off and tells me he never had any thoughts about a future. Shit, I am reading all sorts of romance novel endings into my decidedly non-romance novel, boring Trenton life.

I would have to admit it to myself though; even if I never had to tell him--- I am a coward. I couldn't make the decision to walk away from what I have with Dickie for the unknown. I wasn't raised that way. And although to my mother I was already a failure because I couldn't cook or clean house, I could at least prove to her that I know stability and how to choose the right thing. I loved Dickie, he loved me. Right?

The ride home was silent. And it was ok. I needed the silence; silence and his fingers twined in mine. I felt like we were heading to an execution. It all felt so final. It was just after sunset when we arrived back at my car. Carlos took my keys and opened the door to my little car, grimacing at its sad exterior.

His arms pulled me close to him, and we leaned against the roof, and just stood like that. Still; no words. Words would just destroy things. His lips trailed along the edge of my face, gently tasting the salt air from earlier. He pulled away for a moment, and dug his hands into his shorts. "Babe," he said smiling, as a handful of shells tumbled into my hands. I looked up at him and grinned.

I held them, looking at all the shapes and colors, and they were like gold to me. They were the physical memory of today--- I would know it wasn't a dream. My fingers ran through them, and came upon one I thought was unique when I picked it up. It was perfectly shaped; no chips, or growths. It was a clam shell, and it was black…a rough texture outside, but the inside of it was polished and smooth. I leaned into the car and deposited my treasures into the ash-tray.

I kept the black shell in my hand and put my head back onto his shoulder. We needed to end it, soon. I could feel it. It needed to stop. So that I could begin to recover.

"Carlos." I took his hand and squeezed the shell into it. "Can you take this with you?" My eyes were moist, and I felt that they were begging.

"Babe. I won't ever forget today." He sat me down into my car, and squatted on the ground in front of me. He reached up and kissed my nose, and grabbed my head with both hands. "Babe." He sighed. His kiss was bittersweet, the kind that you know is final.

"If you change your mind about Dickie, let my sister know, ok?" He kissed me again, and my soul split. " Marina knows how to reach you," he said softly.

I was confused. He whispered, "If I don't make it back, babe. I would like to hope maybe you'd visit my grave someday."

"No. Carlos. No. Don't go." I started to feel a little frantic.

"Babe, I'm going to be a ranger. Do you know what that means?"

I shook my head, and he answered, "It means we go in first…"

"Oh." My eyes widened. "Oh. Why would you want to do that?"

"I'm good at it babe. Up till last week I would have said because I don't mind dying, I have nothing keeping me here…."

He stood up, and closed my door. I rolled the window down, and he leaned into it.

"Babe. Thank you." His lips possessed mine and I felt as if I would die if he let go. But let go he did, and eventually I started to breathe again. By that time, he was in his car, about to back out of the lot. I opened my door and ran across the pavement. He rolled down the window. "Babe." I could see the pain in his eyes.

"Be safe, Carlos."

"Be happy Babe."

Tears rolled down my face as I watched him pull into traffic.

Thanks for reading—reviews welcome!!!

Joy to the World is the next song… what should that be about, do you think??


	3. Joy To the World

Characters belong to Janet Evanovich, if you recognize them. This is an alternate reality / and Plum universe short series, (maybe), based loosely on the **soundtrack** for the movie the Big Chill. (but it has nothing at all to do with the movie!)

JOY TO THE WORLD

_Jeremiah was a bullfrog  
Was a good friend of mine  
I never understood a single word he said   
But I helped him a-drinking his wine  
And he always had some mighty fine wine  
Singin'..._

Joy to the world  
All the boys and girls now  
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea  
Joy to you and me

If I were the king of the world  
Tell you what I'd do  
I'd throw away the cars and the bars and the war   
Make sweet love to you  
Sing it now... 

_You know I love the ladies  
Love to have my fun  
I'm a high life flyer and a rainbow rider  
A straight shootin' son-of-a-gun  
I said a straight shootin' son-of-a-gun   
---Three Dog Night_

It's unbearably hot and humid; my clothes are sticking to me like I walked home in the rain. Shit, what was I thinking, wanting to be in Georgia in the summer? Oh, who the hell am I kidding, it's going to get hotter and stickier and no fucking one is going to want to hear this shit from me. Hell, I'll be smacking down any soldier in a day or so if they so much as whimper about it.

Damn it, Stephanie is still occupying my thoughts, my brain; and I'm wallowing in self-pity. My free time is almost gone; I need to get my head into the right place for this training. This is going to be an endurance test, a test of my will. I can't have all this crap clattering around in my head. This last week needs to be filed away in any event. Stephanie in the good—the really, really good; and Miami in the bad ---the really, really bad. Involuntarily a little rhyme about a girl and a curl hums thru my head. Julie's face flashes in front of me, and I hear her little giggle. Yeah Miami in the bad column.

I threw my duffel onto the lower bunk and hoisted myself up onto the top bunk, to hopefully catch a bit of the breeze from the fan that was spinning; but it whirred noisily with no real effect. I kicked off my boots, and unbuttoned the top button of my shirt. These were the last couple of hours of peace and quiet I would have for a long time. I needed them desperately.

I reflected on the last few days in Trenton and Miami. I wasn't sure how I felt anymore. I knew I had made the right decision; but I had to listen to Marina and Celia carry on anyway, and that was always a joy. I groaned in memory. Celia, standing there in the courthouse, 9 months pregnant with her 4th kid, arguing with me about giving mine up. Hell, if she wants to over-populate the world, more power to her. I was over it. I had agreed to give up my rights to my daughter. I barely knew the child.

And then I was shocked at how big she was, and how much she looked like me, when Rachel brought her into the building. She was walking-- I guess she'd been doing that for some time because no one but me was impressed. But I had a stupid grin on my face as I watched her wandering around the waiting room. Last time I had seen her, she was doing more falling than standing.

I had married Rachel while on leave; she was 19 and 7 months pregnant at the time, courtesy of my stupidity on my last leave. I didn't know her—I certainly didn't love her. Hell, we never even lived together. I did it because it was the right thing to do; because while I was a bad one, I was raised Catholic and the guilt was ever-present. I was back overseas before the baby, --Julie Mirabel she had named her, was born, and didn't even meet the girl till she was 6 months old. By then, Rachel had mostly moved on. She met a guy who gave a shit about her, and that was fine by me. I spent a week or so hanging out around Julie, but it just never clicked. She was teething or afraid of strangers or something.

Rachel always had the guy, Ron, around. Shit, she was still my wife; show some class. Oh, whatever. The guy didn't mind Julie. I think I may have spent all of 4 hours alone with her at any one time. More than enough time however, for me to know that fatherhood wasn't my gig. The kid didn't think Ron was a stranger but cried around me, fine. He could have her.

Someone once referred to Celia as a crunchy granola earth mother. It suited her. She just couldn't understand how I couldn't love my child. She didn't get that I had absolutely no connection to her. I tolerated Celia's kids because if I wanted a place to crash on leave, I had to. But I didn't get all gooey over them. Children as a rule bother me. They ask too many questions, they aren't logical and they don't follow orders. Why would you willingly surround yourself with that? Julie didn't ask questions, yet; but she had nailed the other two 'skills' already.

But still, I felt something tug inside me when I saw her the other day. I couldn't tell you what it was, but she had clambered out of Rachel's arms and toddled over to Celia. Her arms stretched up to be lifted as she chanted "Aunt Ce, aunt Ce". She and Celia shared a moment of friendly interaction. Was it jealousy? I was surprised; I knew that Celia kept in contact with Rachel but I didn't realize that she spent that kind of time around Julie. But it made me feel more secure in my decision, because I knew Julie would still have Celia. And she had no need of me.

Celia interrupted my thoughts by walking over with Julie in her arms. "Julie, do you want to go to Daddy?" she asked, trying to hand her to me, and Julie giggled at me, and tried to get out of Celia's arms. Celia put her down and Julie took off running, babbling "Dada, dada," as she approached Ron. That one hurt. I hadn't expected her to talk---I have no idea how old they are when they do that; but to hear her say dada, and run _from_ me?

I hadn't intended for Celia to notice, but I guess it's true about mothers having eyes on the back of their heads; and they use them on everyone. I had taken a step back and leaned against the wall in an attempt to look nonchalant, but she knew me too well. She quietly took my hand and led me outside. I didn't bother to protest. It's futile with Manoso women. They sink their teeth in and you don't stand a chance. We leaned on the railing of the stairs, and she just looked at me.

"Carlos. Why? I saw how that hurt you. Why are you doing this?" she finally asked me. She was quiet, but her voice was earnest, and sincere, and I found myself wanting to tell her things I would normally never share. I leaned back and looked to the sky for answers. Short, easy to swallow, easy to digest explanations of my disjointed and maladjusted reasoning. Finally I just looked at her.

"CeCe, I don't think I will live a long life. I think I'll die young, probably while in the army. I won't be here for her. I want her to have a happy childhood. Ron is good to her, and he seems like a good father to her. I can't be that; I don't know how. And I don't want for her to have to lose her father." I couldn't look at her. It sounded whiny and lame, even to me, but I meant it. I couldn't be there, I didn't have that feeling of love or pride or--- or I don't know what. There was something wrong, I wouldn't disagree. There was something wrong with me.

"Carlos, Mami and Papi didn't leave you on purpose, you know that?"

"Shit, CeCe, I'm 24 years old. I am aware of that."

"I know, Carlos, but I'm talking to my baby brother right now. You can't keep bad things from happening to her by pushing her away. You know that. Don't you?"

XXXX

I hadn't intended to fall asleep, but I must have, as I found myself sailing through the air, courtesy of the hugest guy I'd ever seen. As I scrambled to my feet, I heard a rumbling voice speak to me. "Boy, you be in my bed, and you betta be out of it, afore I push you agin. What kinda shit dis is, you taking both bunks? This ain't no swanky Travelodge accommodations, boy."

Great. Either a comedian or a wise ass. I so don't need this. I stood; adrenaline pumping, ready to battle.

And the guy busted out laughing.

"At ease, soldier," he bellowed. "Boy, you be an uptight son'uvabitch, fo shuah!"

Shit. A joker. I stood, and I laughed with him, like I was expected to. Looks like I just made myself a friend. Wonderful. I groaned inwardly as he pounded me on the back in greeting; and then he tossed my duffel three bunks over. I made a mental note to stay out of his way when he's pissed.

It looked like nap time was over. And so was solitude. I guess a bus load had just arrived, because the quiet buzzing of the fan was slowly drowned out by the clattering of foot trunks and rustle of duffels; and the sharp, quick laughter of men getting to know one another. Men who were all about to face the biggest challenge of their lives. Sorting, pairing up, and trying to find those men who would be your brothers. Who is going to keep you alive? Tomorrow at 0400 was soon enough to find out. I settled in down in the bottom bunk, my back to the room and closed my eyes.

I felt like wallowing, still stuck in my bad week. Unproductive, unfriendly and stupid. But hey that's me. Stupid. I could feel Stephanie's hand touching my cheek as we said our goodbyes and I felt a pain I didn't recognize in my chest.

"Soldier." I felt my bunk sag under his weight. Oh, fuck, what the hell does he want? I chose to ignore him. I outranked him, and we weren't even really here till tomorrow anyway.

xxxx

"We're a fixin' ta head out. Come on, git goin' boy." I plopped down onto the bottom bunk where the guy had retreated to and started to poke at him. I been told more times than I can count that I'm a ball-buster, and I got me a rep to maintain, ya know? He rolled over, hand on his forehead. I had me a flashback of watching "Gone with the Wind"; he did a great Scarlett O'Hara. Something told me by the murder in his eyes, that I should keep that particular insight to myself.

"Boy, what yo' name? Hustle now, we gonna go git wide tonight down at the Jug."

His glare was murderous. "Well, drunk seems as sensible an option as any other," he finally responded and with a shit-eatin' grin, rolled off the bunk. My kind of man, I thought as I laughed and stuck my hand out at him, waiting on his name. He finally stated, "Manoso," and offered me his hand.

I made sure he got the Tank specialty handshake, one bonecrushing son'obitch. "Ah's Tank, Manny. Good to meet ya. C'mon, the guys all headed on down to the waterin' hole aready; we aint gonna git us a table if we don't gitta move on."

I stood, dusted myself off out of habit and followed Manoso through the room to the waiting Jeep. After getting Manny moving, I realized he was gonna be my ticket to some sugar tonight. I had a huge grin on my face. He looked liked he'd be a magnet for the babes, and I would be more than happy to handle the overflow. I chuckled to myself. A tried and true technique-- find the man that the girlies flock around and I always get me some sugar.

The Jug was a dive. A regular filthy everyday dive, full of smoke and stink, and a shit-load of military. The music coming from the speakers was tinny, but the country songs were comfortable and loud. It seemed that the entire base was packed inside, drowning its sorrows on a Saturday night. I barreled my way through the crowds, stopping to laugh or shake hands with half the people I pushed to my side. I grabbed up a couple chairs and went to an already packed table, wedging them between two men. "Shove yo skinny white ass over Trace, and make room!"

Trace jumped up at my voice and smacked me on the back in return. "Tank. Man, its good to see you! You trying again?" He looked up at me as everyone scooted their chairs a bit. I pushed Manny down into one, and sat down hard. "This is Manoso, guys. He's bunking with us." Manny looked at me with a question in his eyes, but I ignored him.

The waitress came over almost immediately. Yup, I knew it. Babe magnet. She ignored me and every other guy at the table while she turned with her prettiest smile towards Manny to see if he might be interested in anything tonight. Uh huh. Doc looked at me and grinned. He knew how I played my game. Some beer, some laughter, some women; life wont get better'en this. "They gonna be on him like white on rice," I laughed as I nudged Doc.

"Daisie Mae," I said, again, this time a bit louder. The petite brunette in painted on black jeans finally turned around from Manny and gave me a huge smile. "Why as I live and breathe, look what the cat drug in! JJ!" And she sashayed her pretty little rear over to me and parked herself on my lap.

"Gimme some sugah, Daisie Mae." I smiled broadly as I pulled her close into me and she planted a kiss on me. Huh. Didn't even need Manny. Doc winked at me, then turned his attention back to the ever-growing crowd gathering around Manny. Shit. That guy is good!

It was almost midnight. "All y'alls better be calling it a night shortly like, Ah reckon 0400 is gonna be kickin' our ass too soon, boys." I got a universal groan when I spoke. The table was littered with beer bottles. And it was a loud crowd we had assembled this here night. Fun and games. I love it. I looked at Doc, and Trace, up on the floor; each swaying in the arms of a pretty girl; and around the table still were Santos, and Wingnut, and Rico, all with a girl on their lap, or squeezed this tight against them. And I had Daisie Mae still hanging off my arm. There were two or three yet vying for Manny's attention, but the boy must gots somewhat on his mind, elsewise I'll have to worry for him. Damn fine lookin' fillys prancing around, and he's gazing into that there bottle like it'd tell'em something.

It took a bit of prodding but finally we all meandered out of the Jug and headed on back to the barracks. I guided him to the jeep. "Come on boy, I'll carry you back, you aint gots no right to be moseyin' the streets lit up like you is."

"Sho nuf somewhats botherin you, boy, or else you'd been a happy man by now, what with all that beer you pissed away and all them fillys wanting to show you a good time." I broke the silence of the ride. Manny had climbed in and not spoken a word. So far, I aint learnt much about Mr. Tight Lips, I thought. He was a notch or two above polite all night, but he so far aint coming across like the friendly sort. Nothing like a quiet, sullen drunk to spoil a good time, I thought to myself.

I wasn't surprised that I got no answer. We parked and got moving towards the barracks. He tried to escape my questions, but my stride is long, as is my tenacity. I laid my hand on his shoulder and stopped him. Looking him deep in the eye, I asked, "You done gone and left a girl back home, aint ya? Tha's whats chewing at ya from the inside out, aint it?"

xxxx

I was being antisocial. I tried. Really, I did. I knew it was important to get to know some of the men before training started. It would be a bonding experience, and that's why I went along. I do what I know I should do.

But I just didn't have it in me. I felt as if I were in mourning. I sat down where Tank indicated, and automatically all the women were drawn to me and it pissed me off, to tell you the truth. It brought back Steph on the boardwalk, and …oh shit. Everything brought back Steph. Four days, and she had wormed herself into my psyche, into my essence. I figured by the time the night was out, the guys would be over it, as they all benefited from me being a downer. I felt like crying in my beer, or drowning in it. And the god-damned music, with all it's fucking tragedy didn't put me in a better place.

But overall, I liked the guys that this Tank fellow sat us down with. Watching Tank barrel through the room was like watching the Red sea part. I could figure out that nickname PDQ. He was easily 6'6" or more, twice as wide as me, and black. And I mean black as the night. Stealth Tank, I silently laughed to myself. He seemed to know everyone. Hmm. Either from around here or he wiped out and is trying again.

All the guys were friendly, but they stayed out of my face. Smart men, I thought. I probably one day should apologize for being such a shit. There were seven of us in all. I knew I had a pretty good chance of having some of them on my team; it was good for all of us to learn about each others real personality. According to Tank, I was already part of the group, if his bunkmate comment meant anything. And hell, they already learned I stay to myself. Good lesson, I thought.

Tank's the dreamer, the philosopher, I figured pretty quickly. Gotta find out what the JJ stands for that the cute little brunette called him. His father was a preacher, he had said, in a little back-woods area of Georgia about 200 miles south of here. Not at all happy he joined the service. But hell, he'd said, 'I aint got the fire'n brimstone thing in me; sho'nuf, I be happy with the wine and the ladies, ya knows? Aint gonna wanna give up all the fun in life to go that way, Daddy, I says.' I had to laugh at that. I could barely understand half of what he was saying, so I didn't think he'd make a good preacher either.

Lester Santos seemed to be the true ladies man, and a practical joker to boot. Trace wasn't far behind him in either pursuit. Other than their height and build-- they were both large men-- they were opposites as to looks. Santos was a generalist they said; he could do everything and anything. He looked like a Latino Irish mix to me. Trace, who was a cartographer, hence the nickname, seemed like he'd been left under a rock too long. Pale skin, hair, clear eyes. Nordic. But apparently incredibly effective when it came to the ladies. Doc, Bobby Brown, he seemed quiet. Serious. Not a frivolous guy, and not someone to piss off. Hadn't gotten a strong read on him yet. But yeah, to the average everyday person walking down the street, they'd cross the other way if they saw this big black guy lumbering their way in the dark.

Rico was just a punk, from what I could tell so far. Not overly impressed, but hell, who am I to judge? Punk was my career choice just a few years back. And I was shocked, pleasantly, when Wingnut sat down. We'd done basic together years back. Michael Wignall, nicknamed Wingnut because of his fascination with aircraft, was a regular guy, a good strong family man. I recalled being drunk off my ass at his wedding. His wife Lianna was a keeper; she never said a word about the crap the other guys and me pulled that day. I would be proud to have him on any team of mine. All I could hope for was that as he got falling down drunk he wouldn't go sharing all my secrets.

The night went fast, the beer flowed easily and the laughter was genuine. It was a perfect time, all but for one thing missing. That I didn't have the chance to be sharing it with Steph. That I'd never be able to tell her about it. She was a part of my past---a fleeting moment of perfection in my life. The alcohol was making me mellow. I didn't pay too much attention to all the carrying on after a while; I just pondered the feeling of her lips, her fingers caressing me. The next thing I know, I'm being grilled by Tank.

I spun out of his hand hold and stared back at him. Then I pulled away and put some distance between us. This isn't Girl Scout sleep away camp. I'm not about to go telling a stranger about my love life. Or lack there of. Of the love of my life. Shit. I made a show of stomping through the room, stomping through my bedtime rituals, and stomping about till I got ready to climb into the bottom bunk.

The whole time the fucking guy just watched me. He was propped up on the bunk, his eyes following me and a fucking grin was on his face the whole fucking time. Did I leave a girl back home, he'd asked. I saw Julie running to Ron; I saw Steph backing away in her car. I felt the tears on her cheeks.

As I got ready to get into the bunk I looked at Tank. "There's no one waiting for me. No one."

xxxx

We all looked west, through the dusty air, toward the city; toward the fires. We couldn't hear each other; the sounds of fighting and sirens and the roar of the wind made it impossible to hear a thing except our own thoughts. Heaven help us if we were left with only those, I briefly pondered. If we moved much farther apart from each other, even our hand signals would be useless in this dust storm. Shit. This is not going the way it's supposed to. But lately that's not even a surprise. Nothing during this last mission has worked the way it should.

I was beyond frustrated. I knew my job and damn it, I did it well. I had lead 5 men into this shit hole two weeks earlier, and I had to extract them from this location. Now. It was looking more and more like we'd been abandoned. Sixteen hours had past since we had our last communiqué from base. Shit. The last information Tank had been able to intercept on the local radio waves was discouraging at best.

I looked about again. Finally, I knew where everyone was. I ticked them off in my mind---to my immediate right, at one o'clock, was Tank. He was my right hand man, in every sense of the word. The past four years had put us through lots of tough situations, and he and I could read each others slightest change. Tank had ended up being our interpreter. He found he had a great facility for languages and dialects.

Trace was at five o'clock. If it wasn't for the internal compass he seemed to have in his head, we'd be out in the absolute middle of the desert at this point, instead of being only a few miles from our goal, which appeared to be giving in and getting out, instead of continuing the mission.

I was not happy. And currently, I needed to keep that aggravation out of my head, and concentrate on making sure we got back to base in one piece. I'd rip into someone then. The fuckers. Leaving us hanging, telling us our god-damn fucking lives aren't worth their time and concern is basically what they did. Oh, if I could throw something now, I'd…..

'Breathe. Calm down.' I could see the whites of Tank's eyes and I could hear his thoughts. 'Later, Ranger. Later there will be time for that.' I nodded briefly and found my control. I signaled to Wingnut and Santos, at seven o'clock, and we began again to move forward ever so slowly towards the flames. Doc took up the rear and had our backs.

xxxxx

Two hours of crawling and eating dust and I didn't feel we'd moved a mile. Most like we hadn't. I watched Wingnut's back as he crept forward, reaching the edge of yet another bombed out apartment building recently abandoned by fleeing locals. Another neighborhood taken over by insurgents, another bit of territory we were going to have to stabilize later. Tired. That is what I was.

I was tired of the fighting, tired of the hatred people have for each other. What is it that they hate so bad that they's willing to destroy the very homes they live in, the very towns and cities of their country? I thought of my Daddy; I could hear him goin' on and on. A preachers gotta practice all week so that it sound like it come deep outta his heart, when really it came most of the time outta trying to get all five of our asses to grow up straight, bless his heart. 'Don't go off with yo pistol half cocked, young man,'-- good lawd almighty how many times I heard him say that to me over the years? Aint nothing more than what I think about these here people. They pistol is always at the ready, they haven't got the sense god gave them half the time, I reckoned.

Ranger signaled us to drop back, again. This is just not going right. I could read the frustration in Ranger's movements, in the way he held himself. We'd become closer than brothers, he and I. We worked well together. We understood each other, and I respected him more'n anyone but my daddy. He had grown up in these past years, and become a great leader, a strong soldier with pride and conviction in his work. I was proud to call him Ranger, cause he'd earned it.

Trace moved again, to the left. We took up behind him and achingly slowly made our way along the alley. Sudden loud mechanical noises broke through the general din, and we froze as one. A few heavy machinery vehicles lumbered down what passed for roads here. After what seemed an hour we once again began our forward crawl. Trace signaled that we reached the road. We made ready to cover each other as we crossed. Santos went first, with Trace and Doc's guns drawn. Then Trace and Doc, with Santos on the other side, his weapon at the ready. It's Wingnut and me next, with Ranger guarding our backs.

Three quarters of the way across the street there was a flash-bang, and I heard the piercing cry of Wingnut as he went down. Gunfire from both sides of the street. I rolled to the opposite side but felt something hit me in the shoulder. Fuck. I looked up and found Doc grasping at me to pull me to safety and Santos and Trace signaling Ranger to get to our side while he had the chance.

I watched, gun drawn, my fingers barely able to grasp the trigger, as Ranger made a mad dash across to us. We stopped for a second, and with a mixture of hand motions and just knowledge that comes from having been so close to people for so long, agreed we'd head out into the street as a group to grab Wingnut.

They had me stay back to cover them, as I was injured, along with Santos, who was a sharp-shooter. Ranger, Trace and Doc scurried out just as we heard the roaring of more motors. None of us could see in the dust and the smoke, they went by instinct to where Wingnut had fallen.

Doc and Trace came into our view, Wingnut limply hung between them, and Ranger was covering them both. I heard the scream before I saw the bayonet's blade glint in some phantom ray of sunlight that had appeared. Ranger fell forward and I shot the bastard who dared to take him away from us. Never have I felt satisfaction as I did as I watched the insurgent fall to the ground.

The noise level had been elevating during the past minutes, but because of the smoke, the wind, we couldn't see a thing. Ranger was crawling towards us, Doc and Santos ready to pull him to safety, when a vehicle careened down the road, hopping the curbs and bouncing in potholes. Ranger was in Santos arms as a truck wheel crushed his left leg as it barreled by. The agony in my brothers face brought tears to my eyes.


	4. What Becomes of the Broken Hearted

Jimmy Ruffin Lyrics - What Becomes Of The Broken-hearted Lyrics

As I walk this land of broken dreams  
I have visions of many things  
Love's happiness is just an illusion  
Filled with sadness and confusion,  
What becomes of the broken hearted  
Who had love that's now departed?  
I know I've got to find  
Some kind of peace of mind  
Maybe.

The fruits of love grow all around  
But for me they come a tumblin' down.  
Every day heartaches grow a little stronger  
I can't stand this pain much longer  
I walk in shadows  
Searching for light  
Cold and alone  
No comfort in sight,  
Hoping and praying for someone to care  
Always moving and goin to where  
What becomes of the broken hearted  
Who had love that's now departed?  
I know I've got to find  
Some kind of peace of mind  
Maybe.

I'm searching though I don't succeed,  
But someone look, there's a growing need.  
Oh, he is lost, there's no place for beginning,  
All that's left is an unhappy ending.  
Now what's become of the broken-hearted  
Who had love that's now departed?  
I know I've got to find  
Some kind of peace of mind  
I'll be searching everywhere  
Just to find someone to care.  
I'll be looking everyday  
I know I'm gonna find a way  
Nothings gonna stop me now  
I'll find a way somehow  
I'll be searching everywhere

Well, I'm a free woman I guess, I thought to myself as I tossed my pocketbook onto the passenger seat, and stuck the key into the ignition. Free. It's over. I should be dancing in the streets, I considered briefly as I pulled out of the parking lot of the courthouse. Free free free. So why do I feel so empty? I started towards home on auto-pilot; my head cluttered with stupid thoughts, but then had to make a U turn when I realized I was driving to my old house.

To my old life, which I had just forfeited. Back down Hamilton I drove and towards a far less desirable part of town. I pulled in to the parking lot of an incredibly non-descript building, and after surfing the lot, discovered that once again, the only spot was next to the dumpster. Dang. I'd moved in a month ago, and I think I was able to park closer than that maybe once. On moving day with a big truck. I think the other tenants thought their cars were yard sculptures or something; they never seemed to move.

Ah, well. I locked the door of the Lexus with the clicker, and had to give a tiny devil smile. Dickie sure had loved this Lexus. So much so that I had demanded it, and just about nothing else. I may have been publicly humiliated in front of god and the Burg, but I got the car. I walked with a little bounce to my step as I thought about his face when I told him the car was mine, mine, mine! You'dya thought I wanted one of his balls. Eeew, thank you very much but I know where those things have been!

The little lady who seemed to think she had a job as elevator operator was there as usual, and I nodded politely and told her second floor. She mumbled something about house wares and toys but I wasn't really paying attention, because just then it struck me full on, I was alone. Yesterday I came home, just like I did today, by myself and I did it the day before and the day before that, but today; today I was alone. My eyes began to well up with tears, and I felt my face go all blotchy as I stepped out of the elevator. I was a divorcee. I was no one's wife, no one's mother, no one's girlfriend. I was for the first time in my life, alone.

No, I was still someone's child, I thought with a cringe. Shit. I was supposed to go to my parents for dinner. Something to take my mind off of things, mom had said. Right. The ink wasn't dry on the divorce decree and I would be so not surprised if I opened the door to their house and found eligible bachelor number one in the seat to my left, Dickie's seat, at the dining room table. Oh, no. I will plead a headache, I thought, as I fussed with the key to let me in.

I didn't remember leaving the lights on, but there ya have it. I could have left the stove on and burned down the place if I cooked and ever used the stove; I was so distracted this morning.

"Surprise!" was screeched and out of the virtual woodwork (this place was 1970's modern and didn't DO woodwork) sprung Marylou, Val, Connie and about six other girl friends of mine. I stood still, blinking my eyes---it was early for my birthday. Really early. May 5? What the heck?

Marylou came to me and took my pocket book and replaced it with a Corona, and led me to the center of my living room slash dining alcove, and parked me in a chair. One of the very few chairs, I realized with a cringe. I am so not ready to be entertaining, I mused as I noticed a half dozen random folding chairs. That had to be Marylou's doing. The woman was always prepared. Must come from having two little boys in the house—prepare for those Boy Scout days now.

I said hello to everyone and got the whole huggy-kissy thing out of the way. I looked over at the table and realized there was a pile of appetizers, and bags of chips. Marylou knew the way to mend my broken heart, that's for sure! "What's up, Mare?" I finally asked, after taking a healthy swig of Corona. Hey, I wouldn't want to appear rude, right?

"This is your divorce party, Steph, and it's Cinco de Mayo!! The beginning of your new life! Here's to The Dick, for releasing you back into the wide world of hot men!" Marylou chanted, and the others took up the cheer. Gee, seems like the party had started without me; I had some catching up to do!

Xxxxx

My life settled into a routine fairly quickly. Some might call it a rut, but it's my world, and I call it a routine. I had to go back to work after walking out on the Dick, because I had decided fairly easily that I could live on little but that he was used to a higher standard of living, so I didn't ask him for alimony; just a lump settlement that was fairly conservative.

Instead, I had made sure that I controlled his future earnings, by running his name through the mud, big time. He was never going to see all of his lofty visions of grandeur come true. Living in this cardboard box of an apartment, decorated with mom's cast-offs (she conveniently decided to get new living room and bedroom furniture for the first time in 35 years right after my split with Dickie) was no sacrifice compared to those that he would have to make.

He was going to find that having a partner whose dining table exploits were widely known was _not_ what most reputable firms were looking for when hiring. And goodbye to your political desires as well, I cheerily waved mentally; no one would want to hear a skank of Joyce Barnhart's caliber explaining away _why_ he was doing the nasty on his wife's dining room table. Nuh uh. Not gonna fly. Can't use her scary face on TV, sobbing about his sad, sad marriage. And he certainly wasn't going to make an honest woman of her—she didn't fit the image he was trying to cultivate when he sucked me into his little life plan.

Oh yeah, finding another job, even this low-paying, dead-end crap was worth it, I thought, as I tucked my hair into the silly net we all had to wear. As if you could control my hair! Whatever. We wouldn't want random hairs found in the customers sanitary napkin wrappers now would we, I mimicked under my breath in the same tone of voice that my supervisor, Velma Markowitz, had used at the orientation session. Repeatedly. My hair _really_ didn't like to be restrained. I slipped on my little paper booties over my shoes and called myself ready for yet another mind numbing day of counting tampons and extra long overnights with the stupid flowery tape strips and lavender packaging. As if that disguised what they were used for.

I opened the door to the break room to down a cup of coffee before my shift, because I had been running late this morning. Couldn't possibly be because I willed the phone to ring, again, like I did every morning, with the shocking news that the sanitary napkin plant burned down over night and I was jobless. Dragged my ass out of bed, again, to the alarm clock's infernal screeching, not the phone's.

Sitting on the table in the center of the room was a small sheet cake and a balloon bouquet. I walked over and investigated, nosy Burg raised woman that I was. I was both somewhat pleased and absolutely horrified at what the cake said.

"Congratulations Steph, on your 1St year anniversary!"

How nice of them to remember and how shocking that I had lost an entire year of my life. I slumped down in my chair with my coffee, and ran my finger along the edge of the cake tray, scooping up gobs of pink frosted piping and sucking it off my fingers.

I was jolted out of my reverie, or sugar induced coma, maybe that was it, when the door opened. I had scooped off the icing from one entire side of the cake! "Oh dearie isn't that nice," Mabel Johnson cackled as she shut the door behind her. Mabel was about 800 years old, and she looked every day of it. She poured a cup of coffee, and held her ever-present cigarette, unlit, thank god for small favors, in her other hand. As she joined me at the table, she began to reminisce. "Wait'll you hit 15 years," she smiled her mostly toothless smile. "You'll get a beautiful 18k gold electroplated watch. And when I hit my 25th year, what was it, two years ago? Well, anyway, I was given a beauty day at the spa. Wasn't that nice of them?"

My depression was deepening with every word she spoke. How had this happened to me? A few years ago the world was my oyster, wasn't that what they said? I had a gorgeous house; I didn't have to work, well not at anything except attempting to not burn down the kitchen nightly. My husband was well respected and well paid, and we were in love. Lies, all of it.

Every little bit of my life. I hated the kitchen, and keeping that house clean, well it was any Burg girl's dream house, but to me, all it did was attract dust, and need vacuuming. While it was bright and airy, that only meant more windows to keep clean. I had to admit it; housewifing was not my cup of tea. I loved to have Mare over of course, but did that when Dickie wasn't around. It turned out the sound of small children screaming set him off in a far worse way than I would have imagined. So we put baby making on the back burner for the time being. A small reprieve. I needed a few more years to get a handle on the order of operations of keeping the house presentable. I don't think adding making sure I was raising a superiorly intellectual, well adjusted happy child was on my to-do list.

Xxxx

Its time to make some changes, Stephanie Plum. I repeated that mantra to myself every day, day in and day out. And yet three months later I was still boxing tampons. "What up, white girl, you looking seriously outta sorts." Lula had settled her ample behind down onto the changing benches in the ladies locker room. I smiled at her. She always had everyone's number. "Oh, Lula, same old same old, yah know? I can't believe I just finished out another 40 hours doing this stupid job. Shit. I'm gonna be here longer than Mabel if I don't get my ass in gear and find something else to do with my life!" I tossed the little paper shoe covers into the trash, and hung up my jacket. I glanced in the mirror but as usual, there wasn't a chance in hell of being able to do anything to my disastrous hair.

"Girl. Now I aint gonna take offense, but that is one poor attitude!! I am glad I got this here job, and I take home an honest paycheck every week."

I sat back down. "Oh, Lu, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. You know that, right?" Lula had become one of my closest friends ever since she had come to work here about 6 months back. She was a big black lady, in every sense of the word. Yes, she was large, but so was her heart, and so was her sense of style, and her honest, opinionated persona was a breath of fresh air. She had worked hard to get to this point, she saw being a factory worker to be a step up on the long climb to respectability. Her former profession had been as a ho', so I guess I had nothing to be whining about.

"I know. Just go for it, Steph. Find something and DO it! I'll be happy to hold the door open for your ass!"

"Oh, no. if I go, you go with me girlfriend," I laughed.

"But not tonight. Tonight is 'torture Stephanie with whatever creepy single man you can find' night."

"Uh huh. Dinner at the parents."

"Yup. You wanna come?"

"Not on your life girl, not on your life."

"You're no fun at all…no sense of adventure, Lula."

"Girl you need to learn the difference between an adventure and a lobotomy." And with that she laughed and her ringlets, bright red this week, bounced about her head. In leaning over to change her shoes, she was really giving her spandex outfit a quality control test, and thankfully it passed with flying colors, the teal top just barely containing her bosom, but not a seam weakening in any way.

"You and me gotta hit the mall soon, white girl, you are dressed all wrong for catching Mr. Right. That there outfit you got on aint fit to catch a fly. It's time to get you a makeover." I groaned at the idea of a makeover courtesy of Lula. Her style was hers alone; but the concept of a day roaming the mall was worth some consideration. Sadly enough I could say I'd be ready bright and early on Saturday. No. That makes me look like the worlds biggest loser.

"Yeah, that'd be fun Lula. What about after lunch tomorrow?" And so I was able to leave work with a perfect alibi if Mr. Wrong asked to see me tomorrow. Well, that made the concept of pineapple upside down cake far more appealing, so I headed off to see what scary specimen mom had found for me this week.

I didn't even protest anymore. It seemed a pointless waste of air to try to explain to my mother why I wasn't ready to date again. I mean, I had barely begun to get her to understand the whole concept of why I walked on the Dick. 'People just don't do that Stephanie. You barely were married. Maybe you needed to explore more; broaden your horizons. Men are different than women Stephanie. They sometimes can be base,' she confided in a stage whisper. 'You need to just learn to accept them for what they are.'

Please, don't do this to me, I silently pleaded. I kept the chatter up in my head so I didn't have to hear her anymore. I don't even want to know that she and dad had normal sex, _ever_; please, please don't make me heave. I so did not want bedroom advice from my mother! Oh, get the bleach for my ears.

Finally however, she started to understand. Or at least she stopped pushing it. I was divorced; I wasn't St. Valerie and never would be. She would have to just get all grandmotherly over little Angie, who Val presented with a smile one summers day. Maybe it's because I would whine to my father after dinner when he would come outside and wash my Lexus. It seemed that he enjoyed doing that, and it was our time together. He had never once questioned my leaving. And he secretly liked the car, even though it wasn't American-made. I sometimes wondered if Dad had a small store of words, and was informed that once he hit that number it was all over, because he never seemed to talk. But you know what? When he opened his mouth, people listened.

I looked at this little scene on Friday nights as a penance of sorts. Hell, I didn't make it to church often enough, so I thought this might count as my act of contrition. You gotta believe in something. I knew the drill. So and so was new in town. Look whose great nephew is visiting, Stephanie. My mother seemed to have a pipeline in the basement for the mal-adjusted, socially inept male.

My head hurt even before dessert. Clayton Worth was a bore. Literally. His droning voice was boring a hole into my head the size of a golf ball. He had actually come straight from the golf course!!! Ohmygod, he was wearing plaid pants and a pink polo shirt. His glasses were held onto his head by a strap. Mother claimed that he was a fine catch; he was so successful he didn't even need to work every day! I shuddered at the idea of having to tell him no when he inevitably got around to asking me to do something tomorrow afternoon. Even though I had prior plans, just the thought of having him ask me on a date was making me ill.

And he didn't ask! We had gotten through dessert, and coffee, and not once did he make any slight overture towards me; what the fuck was his problem? I mean, come _on_. Where exactly is he going to go to find a date? And he's got me sitting here, a hand tied package direct from my mother, who wouldn't stop spouting off all sorts of bullshit about how domestic I was, and he goes on about some crap about being excited because he was invited to play 18 holes tomorrow up in Westchester??? Excuse me?? I mean I had an actual excuse this week; I wouldn't have to flub around and avoid my mother's eyes or anything. What a waste of an excuse. Jerk.

Xxxx

I stopped at the traffic light and looked over at the box sitting on the passenger seat, and shook my head again in disbelief. What have I gotten myself into??? Am I crazy? Why had I let Lula talk me into this??

It took three trips upstairs with all of the crap they had sold me. I lugged the two garment bags with beautiful dresses over my shoulder. They would undoubtedly die a lonely death still in their bags, tags never removed, in the dark recesses of my closet. Where do I ever go that I would need them? But they were pretty. I set the box gingerly on the floor as I dug in my pocket for my keys. I kicked open the door and grabbed the box. I placed it on the kitchen counter, and went to hang up the dresses. Back down to the parking lot to grab the rest of the boxes and bags. Hoo boy. This is a lotta shit!

I shook my head again. What was I thinking? Yes, I wanted to move forward, I had been stuck in a serious rut for far too long. But I'd never done anything like this before. I didn't know if I could. Damn, make some changes Stephanie Plum, I heard a little sarcastic voice whisper in my ear. Shit what if I messed up with this one? Yeah, this was a biggie for me.

Xxxx

I was sitting in the middle of the living room floor two hours later, cardboard boxes and plastic bags and Styrofoam packing strewn about me. There were two instruction books folded open, and yet still I seemed to have three extra pieces after I thought I was finished. I scratched my head. I examined my creation over and over, and didn't see anywhere the pieces could go, nor did it look like it was a problem not having them attached, so I finally just tossed them into the large box and called it done.

I got up and cleaned up my mess, and carried it to the kitchen counter, where I had cleared off a spot. I opened up the last remaining box, and peered inside. Immediately four beady little eyes and two twitchy noses appeared and my new family scampered about on my hand. Come on out you little guys, I spoke softly and gathered up the first hamster, a black and white pretty little boy. Here you go, into your new home, I offered as I placed him gently into the fresh wood shavings. Immediately he ran for the cover of the little housing for the wheely thing. I reached into the box again and removed a lovely tan colored hamster and settled him into his new home.

He too disappeared into a dark corner. I filled the water bottle and grabbed my stool and watched them. So, little guys, I'm your new mommy. I am going to try to do this right, but I have never ever, ever been responsible for another life, ok, so cut me a break alright? So, what should we call you? It looks like you are liking your new home, a little palace, your own castle. A castle, and you guys are the kings… Rex. Ok, brownie, you are now Rex, the king of the castle. And as for you, black and white, what should you be called? Can't have two kings, that kind of thing just isn't acceptable in the Burg. Rex; and Regina would be queen, but you are a boy,…Reggie… Rex and Regina, but we'll call you Reggie, ok?

For the rest of Saturday evening, I sat and played with my new boys. They seemed to enjoy all the leftovers from mom's yesterday. I read up on their care in the pamphlet I was given, and it seemed they were happy with just a little of this and a little of that. They seemed to mostly sleep; see this isn't hard, I thought. I like sleep and they like sleep. I changed my mind at around 3 in the morning, as the damned wheel in the Habitrail castle squeaked at 90 miles per hour, all night long. By the time I woke bleary eyed on Sunday afternoon they had apparently realized I didn't care for their activities because they were both curled up and asleep. Well good.

XXXXX

It was spring and Marylou had called. Do I want to go to the park? Sure! It was spring, right? Spring fling? Maybe I would find a man. Yeah, right. Sitting with Marylou and her two hellions, in the middle of the kiddie park. But, I could ogle, couldn't I? I mean we'd seen it before, nice tasty specimens of men jogging by. And they looked hot. Not just sweaty hot; but plain old hot hot. Of course you'd never find me out there jogging too; I was allergic to running, so I'd never meet them, not with sticky faced little Kenny running around and showing me things like dead worms, but it was a nice view and it was free.

I was explaining my dilemma to Mare. I needed a new job. And I needed it quickly. Soon, I would be opening the break room door, and there would be a cake with my name on it. Despite my love affair with cake, I didn't think I could handle finding another cake, because it would have a THREE on it this time, and I would be only 12 years away from a watch, and I would know officially that I sucked. It might as well spell out 'Loser'.

And she suggested Pino's. Pino's was hiring she said. She'd heard it from her sister-in-law Veronica's hairdresser, so it must be true, right? Could I do that? Work at Pino's? I mean I could happily _live_ at Pino's but _work_ there?

xxxx

I walked quietly over to my mother and touched her shoulder. "Mom, I'm going to take the baby outside for air, ok? She's getting fussy." She looked up at me and nodded distractedly, but reached out for little Mary Alice's fingers and rubbed them for a moment. I turned and quietly left the viewing room. It seemed like the entire Burg had come out for Grandpa Mazur's wake. Wow. He would like that I thought, and a tear came to my eye. But then Mary Alice started to wail again, so I headed for outside with her bottle. Now babies weren't really my thing, but I preferred dealing with her than with that Angie, who was three, so I had offered Val my help. I sat down on a rocker on the porch of Stiva's funeral home and tried to calm her down.

I couldn't believe he was gone. It was so sudden, I thought to myself. Massive coronary, they had said. And we shouldn't have been surprised; the man had an appetite for a particularly unhealthy lifestyle. Oh, changes were coming, and boy was I glad I hadn't agreed to move back home after my divorce three years ago. Grandma Mazur was moving in with Mom and Dad!

Now, I love my Grandma. She understands me, she and Grandpa were always my biggest fans. Heck Grandma is the only person in the entire family who was on my side when I decided to go after the Dick the way I did. She didn't think I was an embarrassment, carrying on in court, airing my dirty laundry, as my mother had said. But grandma was far too large for that little house. She was a tiny little thing in reality, but her fiery personality was larger than life. I knew Dad was slowly and quietly seething. I knew Grandma Mazur challenged Dad's calm acceptance of life. His parents had the good manners to die early in their own home and never descend upon their children to slowly torture them.

Oh, it was never going to be the same. Where had Mom come from, anyway? Grandpa was a longshoremen by trade; coarse, loud, and earthy. Grandma, while a petite little china doll when standing next to him, matched his verve and wit line for line. And they had one child together, my mother. Poster child for the Stepford wives. Odd.

My mind wandered back to the present, because it couldn't concentrate on other things while Mary Alice was wailing in my ear. It wasn't going well, this calming of the baby thing. One tiny four month old baby was winning the battle. Hmm. And I had thought I was doing so well the past year with Rex. Well, yeah, Rex and I had it figured out. I thought of Reggie for a moment, and decided I would have to make a visit to Marylou's soon and see how Miss Regina was surviving with little sticky kid fingers. Yup, turned out that Reggie really WAS queen of the castle; that stupid little pencil headed geek at the pet store had no clue! Of course I only found that out when I woke one morning and found 3 tiny little wiggling things in the cage! Thankfully Marylou and Lenny thought a pet would be good for the kids, so she took Regina and the castle. Typical woman, I had laughed at Rex, as I settled him into his new digs, an aquarium with a soup can and a single wheel.

I moved Mary Alice into my other arm, and tried to lay the burp cloth (gross!) across my shoulder, so I could put her up there to pat her back, like I had seen Val do, but I wasn't having much success. She was wiggly, loudly protesting life, and the cloth was slipping. I sighed in frustration, and then someone came from behind and took the cloth from my struggling hand. It was smoothed out and placed on my shoulder. I could only barely see the hand as I glanced down, but it was male. And nice. Warm. Strong. Nice cologne too. Ooh, its been too long since I've been touched by a man, I thought, reveling in the feeling, before the little fantasy was broken by my finding out who it belonged to. I knew it was too much to hope for it to be someone under 70; all of Grandpa's friends were easily that age, and they had all turned out. Nothing like a funeral in the burg.

I mumbled thank you as I placed Mary Alice in the prepared location, and I patted. The hand moved out of view and then the body it was attached to sat down in the rocker next to me. I almost choked when I looked over to see who my gallant knight had been.

"Joe Morelli?" I gasped, trying not to turn purple. "Hey, cupcake," he said, with a smile on his face. Oh, I remember that smile. The last time I had seen that smile was as he was pulling up his zipper, after…Hey! What he heck is he doing here? I was confused. The last time I had seen him he was definitely not smiling; I had just landed his ass on the sidewalk with my car. Shit that had to have been what, 5, 6 years ago?

"You've got a cute kid, cupcake," he said, jolting me back to the present. Huh? What?

"I was sorry to hear about your Grandpa." He continued before I could correct him.

"Thanks," I murmured, trying still to get Mary Alice settled. "Although he always scared me a bit," he added.

Hm. I had heard that before. I couldn't believe it, though, he had always seemed nice to me. But then again, he _was one_ of those Morelli boys my mother warned me about, over and over, to absolutely no avail. Maybe Grandpa knew what he did to me?

"What's her name?"

"What?"

"Your baby. What's her name?"

"She's not mine," I sputtered. "She's Valerie's. Good god Joe, I don't have any kids!"

He laughed at me. And of course, my anti-Morelli training came out in full force and I got all up in his face. "What is that supposed to mean, hmm, Joseph Morelli? You don't think I could do this, do you? Well let me tell you something, mister," I spouted. I was raring to go. All revved up. And Mary Alice was drowning me out. Her wailing was becoming embarrassing to me. And what was worse was I had no idea how to fix it. She was inconsolable.

Joe stood up, to get away from the screaming no doubt. But then he bent down to me, and took Mary Alice in one arm, casually tossed the cloth over his shoulder and laid her up there, patting her squarely and bouncing her, pacing the length of the porch. And she stopped. 'Traitor,' I eyed her as she looked over his shoulder with a calm face, her fist in her mouth. I was astonished. I stood up and walked towards them. Joe leaned back against the railing but he never stopped moving her in his arms.

I had to admit it, I was glad. Even if he was a Morelli. We stood together for a minute or two, just hanging out, chatting about the weather, the fact he had gotten onto the police force a year or so back. I recalled that vaguely. Mother and her daily litany of who does what in the burg had passed the information along, but I had filed it off in the 'who gives a shit' folder.

I put my arms out, offering to take my niece back. I mean, I should right? But you know what? That Morelli charm was working me, big time, and I really didn't want to stop this little vision. Joe looked good. Really good. He had always been aware of it, and it had made him cocky and mostly a jerk back in the day. But he hadn't lost his looks. If anything, he'd grown into his swagger, into his attitude.

I eyed him again, and the vision of him with a baby on his shoulder didn't take anything from him; indeed, it made him all the more compelling. Frightening when you think about it, I was in no way interested in Joseph Morelli or in making babies with him. With anyone, truth be told And then the thought of him kissing me, I could remember it like it was yesterday. Oh I was pissed the next day. The next month, the next year. But while it was happening? Oh, my god. It was every teenaged fantasy come true.

I was stupidly speechless, lost in the lusty little fantasy world I was recalling, and Joe was grinning that crooked grin of his. And then I heard her. Oh no. Shit. That woman scares me. Hide me, please, I looked at Joe, but he was smiling happily at his 4 foot tall Grandma Bella, no cares in world. "Grandma!" he said, and leaned down, baby still in his arms and hugged her.

She looked at me, and she didn't say she was giving me the eye, but damn it I could feel things churning inside me.

She looked back up, way up, at Joe and she smiled. "I see things Joey. I see you holding your own bambino. A boy, of course," she spit out, glaring as if how dare he be holding something as insignificant as a female baby. "This one, she will be giving you boys. Three." And she walked away.

I had to sit down. Oh dear god. "Joe." I whined at him.

"Ignore her, Stephanie." He laughed at me but I knew I was pasty faced and shaking. I couldn't help it!!

A baby? With Morelli? _Three_ babies?

And then it got even worse. I heard my mother calling for me, walking along the porch, and before I could get Mary Alice from his arms she saw us. And her eyes glassed over in a dreamy haze, watching Joseph Morelli cradle her grand-daughter. I am so absolutely fucked, I thought to myself.

xxxx

Shit. It just never stops. Mom started asking around about Joe Morelli; so of course the entire burg knew within 48 hours that my mother wanted us to date. And mother found out, through detailed conversation with the same sources, that he was a really nice guy. She had spent the better part of 3 years searching hither and yon for a man for me and there just a few blocks away had apparently sat the man of my mother's dreams. Why me? Joe's mother found out within 56 hours, and she wasn't happy. I wasn't good enough for her Joseph. Grrr.

Over the years, Friday dinners had become a lark, a bit of entertainment for Marylou and Lula and Connie and all the ladies at the factory. We all wondered on Friday afternoon and gossiped on Monday morning about the absolute losers that Mom was able to dig out of the woodwork. But now? Now she had a worthy candidate; in her mind anyway. Oh, I've heard he's grown up and away from those Morelli men. He isn't like them, she says, He keeps a job and he stopped drinking heavy and he's definitely a catch. He's a good boy. Ok, boy? No. Man? Yeah and he was good. How can I ruin her fantasy? How can I possibly tell her about the Tasty Pastry? Again with the sex thing!!! I'm still not sure she is aware that I'm not a virgin! Dear god. Joe Morelli? Is she kidding me?

The first Friday after receiving 'the eye' from Joe's grandma Bella I refused to go to dinner at my parents. I had a headache, I couldn't make it, sorry, be there next week. I couldn't face the idea that Joe Morelli might be at the dinner table. Every night for the past week I had dreamed, and I could feel his hands on me, his lips touching me; like it was yesterday and not over a decade ago.

I didn't want to get involved with Joe Morelli!

I had decided this whole celibacy thing had its advantages. I mean, other than the one incredibly huge downside, being single and unattached was easy. No one's toothpaste spit in the sink, the toilet seat _stayed _down, I didn't have to cook. Laundry was cut in half, and I could do what I wanted when I wanted. Excluding the whole explaining to my mother that I was happy on an every other day basis, I was in good shape.

No, a shower massager is no substitute for really good sex. But, then again, had I ever had really good sex? Joe was my first, so I couldn't really rate him. No one in college really stood out. Dickie was, well, Dickie. So, what was I really missing? I couldn't miss something I may have never even had. Therefore, the positives outweighed the negatives, by at least five to one.

If only I could feel truly convinced I wasn't just hiding from heartbreak I would be fine. I lived my life from day to day, and I made no amazing discoveries about myself, I found no great passions. Life was moving forward and I was treading water, and I knew deep down that I needed to fix it. I had this stupid silly hope that one Friday mom _would_ find the man of my dreams, and he'd be sitting there, waiting for me. Virtually impossible stupid fantasy life I lived in, but I liked it better than the alternative. I was willing to see who she would come up with, because surely I couldn't ever fall in love again the way I fell that summer when I met Carlos.

I had never heard from him again. Those four magical, earth-shattering, life changing days, and then he fell off the face of the earth. And I couldn't complain because I had turned him down, I had been engaged to another man. I sometimes wondered about him, what he was doing with his life. Was he married yet? Still in the army? I knew he was alive, because I trusted that he had told his sister to contact me, and because I knew I would feel it if something happened. I just knew it; I don't know why I believed it but believing it made living life without him easier.

Xxxx

Anthony Pino gave me a job, I think against his better judgment. I don't know why or where I developed a reputation for being a magnet for disaster, I really don't. But for some reason, I am linked with a variety of clumsiness and catastrophe, and it's kinda getting old. I mean, really, hasn't anyone else just had a really bad day? Thank god the world at large, minus a certain Joseph Anthony Morelli, just thought it was dumb luck the day I took him out with the car!

Other people have to have had days where they feel like they are rolling in garbage, right? Not just me. I mean, ok, few probably have literally done it. Sad to say, I was one of the chosen few. But it's not my fault, really. I was helping Marylou catch her cat one late afternoon. We had followed him from the back yard, and he snuck through the alleyway, and headed toward the main drag, down near where Giovacchini's and the Tasty Pastry were.

She walked around the block, and I told her I would follow Heathcliff, trying to flush him out. He had to be scared, right? He was an inside cat. So, off I go, tracking this damned orange fur ball, and he gives me the slip and I barrel through the alley behind Giovacchini's, and watch Heathcliff climb up a stack of old orange crates. I climbed up behind him. How else am I to catch him?

The damned orange crates were crap; they couldn't withstand my weight, and I tumbled to the left, the cat gracefully flew to the right, and I crashed into a huge ass mound of garbage bags full of produce scraps. I could only thank god that that was all I landed in, thinking briefly of all the meat and fish that Giovacchini sold every day.

I had climbed out and wiped off the slop that had stuck to me, and looked around. Great. Heathcliff had found the fish scraps, and was happily wallowing in the can he had landed in. I refused to do another thing but watch and wait for Marylou to get her stupid animal out of the garbage. Of course at that very moment, the back door of Giovacchini's opened and there was a crowd standing there, wanting to see what had caused all the noise. I had given them all a small finger wave and groaned.

I'm not that clumsy normally, really I'm not. I don't walk into walls when a hot guy walks by or anything. Whatever. It made no difference. Anthony told me he'd start me on a Tuesday after the lunch crowd, because it was calmer then. I was getting a rotten feeling of this job being akin to a pity fuck or something. Well, I was gonna show him. I had put on the black jeans he said everyone wore, and the bright red t-shirt that had PINO'S in huge letters across the back, and of course an extra coat of mascara, for confidence.

You are moving _up _Steph, I kept chanting to myself. You've moved on from the tampon factory! You got out! Waitressing was gonna be a piece of cake. I mean I know everything on the menu; I've ordered it all at one time or another. I know everyone in the burg, or someone who knows them, or they know me, or of me; so on their part, no great expectations, right?

I was crying by the time we closed up shop that night. There had been a call out for the dinner shift, and Anthony thought I had done well enough to ask me to cover! That was a great confidence booster. And blister raiser. I didn't know if I could get my shoes off my feet they hurt so badly. I was sitting on the toilet in my bathroom, the tub filling up with steamy hot water, and I was afraid to take off my shoes. I tossed them finally into the corner and carefully peeled off my socks. Good god, the blisters were huge. I put my head in my hands and tears ran down my face. 'You are out of the factory Steph; you're moving up,' I whispered through my tears.

Xxxx

I was really getting the hang of this waitressing. I had been doing it for 4 months now. I was even allowed to take phone orders, but not at dinner time. That had gotten a bit hairy a few times and I was banned from the phone between 5 and 7 pm and all weekend evening hours. That's ok. I made more in tips when I was on the floor. But I had never really noticed how much of a cop hangout Pino's was till I started working there.

And the cops were flirts, every last one of them, even the married ones. No, especially the married ones, I realized. And a bad thing was that one of those cops was Joe Morelli. Thanking the stars that crossed paths in the sky, I had avoided dinner with Joe all this time. Either he or I was working on a Friday evening, and my mother didn't have enough of an imagination to attempt to match make on any other day. And it was fine business with me, because I wanted nothing to do with Joe.

Joe was a flirt. That innate skill or natural talent or whatever he had slung about carelessly in high school was now a sharply honed tool. And I was told by all the other incredibly jealous women who worked there that it appeared he had settled on me as a goal. Great. He must have heard about my mother. And his mother. And I know he would do something just to piss off his mother, and if it made mine happy in the process, well, more power to it. Yup. Fucked.

Xxxx

I was drawn like a moth to a flame. It had been that way since we were kids. I wouldn't call me a stalker; fuck, those guys were psychos. But I had had something of an obsession with Stephanie Plum since we were little kids. And mostly my memories of her were painful, so I don't know why my subconscious kept after her but it did.

She was the cause of the worst beating I had ever gotten, when my parents found out about me playing choo choo with her. Damn it, my brother never got in that much trouble about it; how was I to know it was bad?

She broke my fucking leg with a car once, I'm guessing because I wasn't Robert Frost. I mean, I only said nice things about screwing her on the bakery floor. She was good! I didn't know she was a virgin. Fuck she wanted me as much as I wanted her, or why would she have let me?

I had acted all cool and cocky, especially around her, trying to get her to pay attention to me. I'd see her eyes following me around the football field, my arm draped over Teri Gilman. I had hoped it was making her want me. Teenaged boys are just stupid, I know that now. Never occurred to me she'd be mad about it! The way our brains worked; well, they didn't I guess.

I had blown it with her for good, I had thought. She had gone off and married that lawyer and I moved on too. Finally decided to grow up a bit, and after I got out of the Navy I made myself scarce in Trenton for a while. Somehow, the ties of home, the burg; they tugged at me and I came back. I moved in with my mom for a bit, deciding what to do. And then I ran into an old high school buddy, Carl Costanza, and he told me that the Trenton PD was hiring. I decided that sounded like a plan. Like a grown-up. So I became a cop. And it turned out I was good at it.

I moved into my aunt's house after she died. She had left it to me, and it seemed time to move out of mom's anyway. After moving out, I discovered why Pino's was so popular. I didn't need to go out for Italian food when I lived at home; my mom and grandma Bella were great Italian cooks. But I began to hang out there with the guys after work and it was a nice place. Knew everyone, too.

I couldn't believe it when Stephanie Plum started working there. Wow, what a fall. I heard from my mother that she had given it good to her ex-husband. Glad I wasn't on her bad side I had thought, and then remembered, shit, I _had_ been on her bad side. Six fucking weeks on crutches because I got on her bad side! Not doing that again. So I stayed away. I watched her though. God, she was just as beautiful to me as she was 20 years ago, when she was wearing those little patent leather shoes and a frilly pink dress.

She was a disaster as a waitress. I don't know who she screwed to get the job, but I hope they thought it was worth it. She got confused when it was busy; she got rattled by guys hitting on her, and she spilled more soda than she served. It was fine when she was waitressing other tables, it was like free entertainment with dinner. But when she was our waitress it was just a pain in the ass.

"Hey, Cupcake," I motioned to her, trying to get her attention. She had gotten sucked in over at the Hansley table. That woman was such a bitch, and she was giving Steph a hard time. Yeah, Steph sucked but come on, be human about it. Her two little girls were gonna grow up warped, and her husband, well, he certainly didn't protest anything the lady said. I decided I had better not yank her chain too much tonight, she looked on the edge.

Why would someone bring their kids out to dinner this late anyway, I wondered? It was almost 10:30 pm. I had figured I would hang out tonight and maybe talk to Stephanie. She would be getting off her shift soon. I had told myself over and over to stay away from her, but I couldn't.

I had this recurring dream about her for months now, since I first saw her at Stiva's with her baby niece on her shoulders. I needed to talk to her, I needed to touch her. I wanted desperately to kiss her. It had been years—almost 10 years! And still I could remember how she felt.

Her mother was getting desperate to get her married off again. Mrs. Plum asked around, and thankfully she had learned I had tried hard to break the mold that Morelli men fell into. I had a house now, and I was almost 30. I had a career, too. All that was missing was a wife. I was ready for that step, too. And that step didn't scare me, not really. I knew since I was a little kid she was the one for me.

Steph on the other hand, had been avoiding any contact. And she wasn't subtle about it either. Her mother called and invited me for dinner a half dozen times, and then would cancel at the last minute, because Steph was sick or had to work. You'd think I had the plague or something.

"Hey, Joe," she spoke to me, breathless, trying to keep moving while she talked. "What'd ya need?" I held up my beer bottle. "You got it," she smiled, and walked away. Probably was the last I would see of her for 20 minutes. Who cares. Just watching her was getting me hard. She had such a nice ass. I sat with my empty beer bottle in my hand, watching her scurry around, thinking about what she would feel like in my arms.

I hoped I could convince her to talk to me, go out for a drink or something. I had laid low all this time, just getting her used to being around me. I didn't want to blow it again. As I had expected, I didn't see her again for quite some time. I think she was trying to avoid the Hansley's and I couldn't blame her.

Finally she appeared, with her apron off, and began to bus some tables. The place was closing up, winding down, and I knew I needed to ask. "Hey, uh, Steph?" I called, and raised my bottle and my eyebrow at the same time. She thunked her head with her hand and went behind the counter, then came over. She put the beer onto the table and looked at me. She was wringing her hands together. "Joe. I'm sorry. I totally forgot. Forgive me?"

I looked up at her face, and her gorgeous blue eyes looked like they were brimmed with unshed tears. I guess tonight had been bad. I reached out to get her to stop the hand thing, and agreed to forgive her, if she'd go out for a drink with me when she was done. I was shocked when she said yes.

xxxx

Why did I do it? He caught me at a low point; that has to be it. I don't want to get involved with him of all men! Yet I said yes, sure, I'll go out for a drink with you. Damn fool woman!

No, it's those damned Hungarian hormones. Look at that ass, I thought, watching him wander to the restroom before we took off. His ass had only gotten better over the years. Shit, I was absolutely out of my league. Joe ran with the big boys. He knew the power he had over women. I smiled as he came back toward me, but it didn't reach my eyes. I feel like I just made a deal with the devil or something. My mother is going to be planning the wedding before I make it home tonight.

I could feel a mom headache coming, too. Morelli. I agreed to a date with Morelli. No, well maybe it's not a date really. No, definitely not a date. When mom calls tomorrow, which I know she will because she will get 6 calls that I left work with Joe, I have to be firm about the fact it wasn't a date.

He held the door open for me and his arm found its way around my shoulder as we walked through the parking lot. "Your car or mine?" he asked, and I know I should have said I would follow him, but I didn't. "Yours is fine." I settled myself into the cab of his truck and began wringing my hands again. This was such a bad idea. Joe started the truck and backed out. He reached over and put his hand on my thigh, and I thought would die right there. I can't be doing this. I haven't had sex in so long I could be a virgin again! Just his type.

"Cupcake, you seem pre-occupied."

I noticed suddenly the truck was parked; we were at the bar already. The Fall Inn, uh huh. I had heard things about this place. And it was more of a cop hang out than even Pino's. I knew that two drinks was my maximum. Absolutely couldn't have more than that; I had done stupid things if I drank more than that too many times. So two, no more, because Joe would be a very stupid thing to do.

I let him take my hand as we walked to the bar. "Uhm, Joe?" I said as he held the door open for me. He ushered me inside and led me up to the bar. "What did you want to ask me, Cupcake?" He leaned over as we settled onto some bar stools. This is stupid, I feel like I am in high school, I thought to myself.

"Uh, well, uhm, is this a date?" I finally just blurted out. And he laughed at me.

"Depends," he said.

"On?" I asked. What kind of a stupid answer is that anyway.

"On how it ends," he whispered seductively into my ear. I felt myself turn bright red, but thankfully the bar was dark and he didn't see.

Xxxx

I rubbed my eyes, and squinted at the sunlight streaming onto the bed. I don't have sun in my bedroom in the morning, I thought, confused. I turned my head and realized why. This wasn't my bed. Oh, fuck! No. I didn't. Tell me I didn't sleep with Joe last night. But there was definitely the back of a head that looked suspiciously like Joe's lying on the pillow beside me.

Shit shit shit. I needed to get up and out of here, fast. Carefully, I worked my way out of the bed, watching, making sure I didn't jostle the bed and awaken him. This is a bad dream, wake up, get out while you can. Before my mother comes over with curtain swatches.

As I sat, balanced on the edge of the bed, I realized I was still wearing my t-shirt and panties. Maybe I didn't sleep with him after all. I let out a sigh of relief before I realized that it made no difference, my car was at Pino's; I was at Joe's and my mother would find out.

"Morning, cupcake," Joe said lazily, rolling over in the bed, running his fingers along my back just above my panties.

"Feeling any better this morning?" he asked, scooting closer and rubbing my spine, his lips gently kissing where his fingers just were. I was getting distracted from the questions too. "Huh?"

"You were in no shape to drive last night, Steph, so you agreed I should take you home," he murmured, pulling me down onto the bed again, and running his hands up and down my arms, pulling me closer. It wasn't just the two of us up either, I found out as he pressed himself against me. Oh, damn him, I thought as his mouth descended onto mine. When he let me up for air, and when I was able to think clearly again, I decided I needed to end this, now. "Uh, I think I meant for you to take me home to _my_ apartment, Joe."

As if I would have sent him away even if he had. Damn, he felt good. My head couldn't think of any excuse that my body would accept as a good enough reason to make him stop torturing me with his hands, his tongue; so I gave up trying.

xxxx

I opened the door to the bathroom and hollered over the noise of the shower. "Joe, your mother wants us there no later than 5! You have got to get moving!"

"I know, I know," he hollered back and so I took my hairdryer and brush off the vanity. I closed the door and hopped back into the bedroom and finished pulling up my pantyhose. I smoothed out my skirt, shoved my feet into my pumps and grabbed my hair things. I took them into the spare bedroom and got to work on my hair. Looking in the mirror I saw the bed's reflection and realized it was a good thing that Joe didn't have other overnight guests, because this room had slowly been taken over the by my clothes and other stuff when I slept over. Which by the variety of outfits and such was apparently often.

The droning of the dryer, the methodical brush strokes attempting to tame my hair gave me a few minutes peace before dinner at the Morelli's. Joe's mother had slowly warmed up to me, and I was even invited to family events before Joe sometimes. But tonight; tonight was Joe's birthday. And his mother and grandmother thought it important we spend it with them. Sounded riveting and oh so romantic, I mused, but what could I do?

I recalled my birthday; we had been seeing each other for about a month, and Joe planned the most romantic little weekend for us down in New Hope. He had surprised me by his thoughtful nature since we started dating. He really had grown up. It was nice. I thought he was charming; I thought he was always going to be like that. But it turned out that weekend was an aberration. He was not a fireside cognac-drinking poet, content to while away his evenings taking horse drawn carriage rides admiring the foliage. He was more the beer in a bottle, pizza grease on his tee-shirt, what-sport-is-in-season on TV kinda guy.

And I guess that was ok. I wasn't a ridiculously romantic mushy kind of gal. But somehow, something more than pizza and beer on my night off from working at the pizza joint seemed a bit more like a date, ya know? So in that vein, tonight was a real date. Kind of. It was with his mother and grandmother, who still freaked me out. But it would end up nice, when we got home and he spent his time taking my clothes off.

Xxxx

As I wiped down the tables in my section after the lunch rush, my mind wandered. I really wish I hadn't promised Marylou I would go with her to the park today. But seeing Marylou, and spending time with her three little terrors, it was always kind of nice in a scary way. At least a day with them reminded me to never forget to take my birth control pill!

Today was mine and Joe's one year anniversary. I was truly shocked by the fact that neither of us had killed the other in that time. To say my relationship with Joe was volatile was like saying the Titanic was a motor boat. Highly understated. All I knew was it was a good thing I had never agreed to give up my apartment. I visited it for a week or three at a time, when Joe and I couldn't take each other any more. If I hadn't had that apartment, I am sure one of us would be in jail for attempted murder or worse. But what did you expect, mixing two Italian tempers, when one of them is an ass? I know, I shouldn't say that. I do love him I guess. But sometimes! Grrrr.

I had kind of planned a little something romantic, but then Joe called and told me he was going undercover for a week or more. He had already left, and he never even mentioned what today was. I was more upset by it than I would ever have expected. I needed to vent a little about it, to calm down, to get my head straight. It wasn't the first time he'd had to take off in the past few months. Ever since he made detective, he had been given the opportunity to do out of town undercover, and he said it was good for his career.

But I had hoped I was special enough to him to at least have rated a happy anniversary before he ended the phone call. Probably too much to expect. How was this relationship actually working out, I wondered, not for the first time. Was Joe happy? Was I happy? I knew Mom was ecstatic; she could see visions of tulle and satin and thrown rice and babies in the future…my future, which she was busily planning.

I didn't think Joe was a bad choice; he certainly wasn't Dickie, and despite his past I didn't think I would ever find him in such a compromising position. I could do worse, right? Heck, I _had_ done worse. And I wasn't going to fall into something this time. I laughed at my thoughts. I'm going on like Joe has ever even suggested marriage.

I shook my head to clear it and continued straightening up. I stopped suddenly, getting that feeling again. It was weird. For the past few months, at incredibly random times, all of a sudden, I would think of Carlos. He would just pop into my head, unbidden, and for no reason I could connect with the world around me. I just felt him. It was disconcerting to say the least. I looked up and out the window this time, as if I would see him walking down the street, but of course, I didn't. The only people I could see were the backs of a pony tailed man with a crutch, and a little girl holding onto the edge of his jacket, swinging a little purple stuffed animal in her other hand.


	5. My Girl

Characters belong to Janet Evanovich, if you recognize them. This is an alternate reality / and Plum universe series of stories based loosely on the **soundtrack** for the movie the Big Chill. (but it has nothing at all to do with the movie!)

My Girl, lyrics by the Temptations

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day.  
When it's cold outside I've got the month of May.  
I guess you'd say  
What can make me feel this way?  
My girl (my girl, my girl)  
Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl).

I've got so much honey the bees envy me.  
I've got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees.  
I guess you'd say  
What can make me feel this way?  
My girl (my girl, my girl)  
Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl).

I don't need no money, fortune, or fame.  
I've got all the riches baby one man can claim.  
I guess you'd say  
What can make me feel this way?  
My girl (my girl, my girl)  
Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl).

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day  
With my girl.  
I've even got the month of May  
With my girl

The lights were moving, pulsing in uneven circles. My head felt like it would explode soon. I gave up trying to keep my eyes open. Surely someone had my back; I was going to rest a bit first, then figure out what was going on. I tried to move, but I couldn't without getting a shooting pain in my side. Why? I couldn't recall. I decided I'd open my eyes again; see if anything could make me remember why I hurt so much. The lights were still there, over my head. They were making me nauseous, so I closed them again, and breathed deeply. Bad idea. Fuck, that hurt! I needed to not be flat on my back either. What the hell? I could choke on my own vomit. Where the hell am I? I couldn't roll over, and I couldn't lift myself up, or get out of the bed. What happened?

I opened my eyes again, determined not to puke, and lifted my head up a bit. Even that put a strain on my side. I felt my face with my right hand; I had an oxygen tube strapped over my nose. My left hand felt around my abdomen gingerly; all manner of wires were attached monitoring me; and I came across what I guessed were bandages. I realized I couldn't move my leg. I looked down and saw a steel contraption sticking up from the blanket. That must be why. Where am I?

I continued to worm around the bed, but it was exhausting me and I couldn't discover anything more. I dropped my head back onto the pillow and my hands flopped back onto the bed. My right hand came in contact with a cord; I fingered it, and discovered a button at the end. A call button. Good. Someone can tell me what the hell is going on. I pressed it and waited. But not patiently. I pressed again. Still no one. I was in a private room, that much I could tell, and my door was closed, so hollering probably wouldn't get me far.

I couldn't remember why I was looking for someone. But I knew, deep down, when I thought about it really hard, that I was trying to find someone to talk to me, so I pressed the button again, once I found it, because I had dropped it and I better press it, so someone comes to to to …..the lights were talking to me, so I decided I didn't need a person anymore and that was good, because my fingers weren't working to press the button and then the button disappeared anyway.

The door opened and the sounds washed around me. The lights stopped talking, but there was a head hovering over me, and it's mouth was moving like a fish. I was bad, apparently. The mouth was reprimanding me for something. Something about the call button. But I didn't listen, can't hear you mouth, I'm numb, numb, comfortably numb; my hands feel like two balloons…I think that could be a song, if I could sing. Maybe I would write it someday. I wish I could play guitar. That would make writing a song easier, I think, don't you, head?

Where did the head go? I swiveled my head about and saw the door closing again. I wondered briefly if the lights would tell me a story, if I closed my eyes and listened like a good boy.

Xxxx

I held tightly onto Aunt Ce Ce's hand. I was tired of going to other places. I wanted to go back to my house and I wanted to go to sleep in my bed tonight, because mommy had bought me a pretty pink flowered blanket and she would always tuck me in. Then she would kiss me on my nose, and I would giggle, and she would say sleep tight querida, I love you. But we didn't drive to my house this time either. We left the car in the parking lot, and I held onto Mrs. Wabbit by her long lavender arm and she came with us into the big building.

Aunt Ce Ce had been crying on the phone, and then we got onto a plane. I really liked the plane, because it went high into the sky and I could look down. I looked out into the clouds and I asked Aunt Ce Ce if we were flying into heaven, but she said no. I wish we were. I wanted to see my mommy again.

The building was noisy, and I didn't like it. There were lots of men walking around and they all had on the same clothes. And there were ladies too, and I think they were nurses. Was this a hospital? Yes, there was a nurse lady and she was pushing a man in a wheelchair. Why are we in a hospital, Aunt CeCe, I tried to ask her, but she didn't hear me, I don't think. She was talking to the lady behind the glass wall. She sat down on the chair in front of the glass wall, and rubbed her belly.

Her baby was getting too big for her belly, I think. Maybe that's why we were here. When Xavier got too big to live in Mommy's belly, she went to the hospital and they took him out and then he lived in our house. I miss Xavier too. I hugged Mrs. Wabbit really tight, and I wrapped her ears around my neck. She always loved me. She would listen to me if I talked to her, even if no one else would.

Aunt Ce Ce took my hand again and led me to some chairs in a big room with windows. I climbed up onto the chair and looked up at the TV, but there were no cartoons on, so I looked out the window. I wanted to go outside and play. There was a swing set on the other side of the parking lots, and there were people in wheelchairs and little kids and women over there, even though it was almost suppertime.

I got out of the chair and walked to the window, and put my forehead against the glass. It was cold on my head. I turned my head fast and I could see my pigtails bouncing up and down in the window. I was happy my hair was finally long enough to have pigtails like my friend Andrea had. I looked out and as I breathed the window got all foggy. I couldn't see through it. I touched my nose to the window, and it was wet! Eww.

Mommy always said not to touch things because there were germs. But this was a hospital. And mommy wasn't here. I looked around to see if I was going to get in trouble, but Aunt Ce Ce wasn't watching me. She was looking at the big doors we came through. Maybe we were going to meet someone here?

She kept looking at her watch. I looked up at the big clock on the wall. I wished I could tell time. I think it would make me a big girl if I could. Then I could make the rules if I were big. And if I could make the rules then I would make everything be the way it used to be.

Aunt Ce Ce jumped up, and she wobbled a bit. But by the time she was standing, another lady who looked just like her was hugging her and they were crying together. I held Mrs. Wabbit very close to me and watched, pressing myself quietly against the edge of the chair. Finally Aunt Ce Ce reached out for me. "Julie, come here to me sweetie." I looked up at her, and brushed my bangs out of my face and tried to smile at her because she was smiling at me. I think her smile was pretend too.

Xxxx

"Sergeant Johnston, I am really not at liberty to tell you his physical condition, you know that. However, he has been quite agitated since he arrived." Woman's voice. Sergeant Johnston? Who? Hey, Tank! I opened my eyes and saw the two figures at the doorway. Tank hovering over the petite nurse, filling the door with his shadow. Thank god, Tank was here. He'd clear up everything for me. I cleared my throat, and they both turned.

"Ranger, man, you gave us a good scare." Tank was at my side in two strides, the nurse and the rules forgotten. That'd be Tank. I looked him over briefly, and saw his right arm was in a sling. He had grabbed a chair and pulled it to my side. A sight for sore eyes.

"Tank. Where am I?"

"Why, you're back at Bragg. Ranger, you were airlifted here yesterday. From Ramstein in Germany?"

Nothing. I didn't remember that. Shit. I closed my eyes and concentrated on thinking. My brain wasn't working right. After a minute, I recalled. Oh, damn it. I knew.

"My men?" I opened my eyes and took in Tank's sling again and remembered everything. "Did Wingnut make it?"

I saw a shadow overtake his face, and I knew he didn't. Shit. He was a good man, a great friend. I felt a pang in my heart, a cold chill run up and down my arms. "When's the funeral? I need to be there for Lianna."

Tank gave his head a small shake. "I just got back ,Ranger. This went down 8 days ago." I noted suddenly that he was in his dress uniform, not the desert fatigues I was so used to seeing on him.

I ran my hand across my forehead and sighed. Damn it all to hell. "Catch me up."

"You don't recall? Ranger, you went into the street to get Wingnut, he'd been hit; and an insurgent got you in the back, and you got yourself run over. You developed a nasty infection in your kidney where he got ya; they've had you on serious antibiotics, you were almost septic. I know they were worried for a while. And you had a couple surgeries to get your leg stabilized. We came stateside yesterday. I headed out to South Carolina for the service."

"None of it."

"Probably just as well, Ranger. You look like you was rode hard and put away wet."

"Did we ever get a response? They were just going to leave us? They let Wingnut die. Fifty percent of the team out of commission!" I gritted through my teeth.

"You were right, Ranger. They sold us short. That's all what I'm hearing, anywhere I look into it."

"Fuck."

"Ranger, you know I'm with you. Any day, any way. Man, you got us outta some tight jams. I aint let up a bit trying to get answers, but damn it, they aint talking."

I looked at him and nodded wearily. I knew that I could always count on him. And the rest of my team. Damn, I could count on them, but could they count on me? I got Wingnut killed. I recalled the last time Michael heard from Lianna; she'd sent photos of the kids, and the littlest one, Robby, Johnny, something like that, he'd sent him a crayoned paper with what was supposed to be a heart on it. He was showing it to everyone, so proud of his son.

We talked for a bit, but I think he could see I was fading fast, because he dismissed himself. "I'm gonna head on outta here, ok? I came by to make sure you was all settled up alright, but I gotsta get on down home, my momma carryin' on something fierce I got shot. Gotta go show her I'll live. I'm on medical leave another week, so I'll be back this way short like, ok? Ranger, man, it's good to have you back," he said as he stood and he shook my hand in a way that was reminiscent of the first day we'd met. I knew now it was the Tank special. I grinned slightly at the memory.

"Take care, soldier." I nodded and gave him leave to reassure his family of his health and well-being. His family. Such a luxury. I thought briefly of my small and disjointed family, and wondered if either Marina or Celia would contact me while I was stateside. I assumed they had been contacted when I was hurt; Rina at least, she was listed as my next of kin.

I figured I would contact them, once I knew a bit more about my condition. I was somewhat concerned by what Tank told me. I appeared to be looking at a lengthy convalescence. Shit. But currently, I could think of nothing but closing my eyes again. That short visit wiped me out.

xxxxx

My new Aunt, Aunt Marina, she bought me ice cream in the cafeteria, and she and Aunt Ce Ce talked in low voices for a long time while we sat at the table. They were talking about someone named Carlos, but I didn't know him, I only knew stupid Carlos Rodriquez who sat next to me on the school bus. Mrs. Wabbit and I had a little party, because I was bored sitting. I had to wipe off all the sticky from her nose because she is messy with ice cream. Aunt Ce Ce smiled at me a little when she saw me do that, but then she shook her head, and turned around again to talk to Aunt Marina.

We finally got up and went into another light green room with some chairs and couches and sat down there. All the rooms here were light green. I thought that was silly, because how could you remember what room to go to? Aunt Ce Ce wanted me to sit with her on the couch, and Aunt Marina sat down in the chair.

"Julie, we are going to tell you some things, and it may be a bit confusing, ok?" Aunt Ce Ce said to me. "You can ask me any questions you want after I finish, and I will try to answer them all."

This didn't feel like I would like it very much. I think it sounded the same way when Nana told me that Mommy went to heaven. I didn't like that day one bit. But Aunt Marina had closed the door, and Aunt Ce Ce had put her arm around me, so I couldn't hide. I wanted to. I bit my lip and I looked up at her and nodded. "Ok," I whispered.

And then they told me that my Daddy was really just my second daddy, and that he probably wasn't going to come back any more. He had run away from home after mommy went to heaven, but I know he will come back for me and Xavier, I know he will. He loves us. But it was ok, Aunt Ce Ce said, because my first daddy would take me home and I would live with him. I don't think that makes sense. I had only one daddy, Daddy. And I can just keep living with Aunt Ce Ce until he comes home, because Daddy knows where that is. I told her this, but she didn't answer me.

They said my daddy, the other one, was here in this hospital because he was a brave soldier army man, and he had got hurted. We were going to go see him and he was going to be surprised that he would be able to see me, because he didn't see me a lot. I don't remember ever seeing him, but that's what they said. I just sat there and let them talk, and wrapped Mrs. Wabbit's ears around and around.

I told her I didn't want to. I liked my house, and I wanted to live there. I wanted my Daddy to come home again, and I wanted my brother back and I wanted my mommy to come back from heaven and I wanted it to be the same as before. "Sweetie," she said, "I wish it could be that way, I do." But it didn't make a difference because then my new aunt said "Let's go see our brother now," to Aunt Ce Ce.

Aunt Ce Ce held my hand and we walked down a long light green hallway. The ceilings were very high. The floor was dark green squares and white squares, but I tried to walk on only the white ones. Sometimes I missed, and touched a green one. There were a lot of men in wheelchairs in the hallway, and some of them smiled at me, and a few said hi to me. I looked down at my feet and made sure not to touch the green. Mrs. Wabbit was very close to me; I was hugging her tight.

We got onto an elevator, and I watched the numbers move. We got off when we got to five. I smiled, because that was how old I was. Well, I was five and a half, but I don't think elevators have half's.

Xxxx

I was walking to the elevators, contemplatin' my visit with Ranger. It disturbed me more than I wanted him to know that he didn't remember the past week. But mayhaps it was for the best. He had been in a world of pain and misery. I hoped this wasn't gonna be the end of the road for him, but I didn't see how it wouldn't be. He had been tore up pretty good. I sho don't wanna be the one to tell him that his dream of retiring after he put in his 20 wasn't gonna happen. He seemed so confident about the direction of his world, his life. I liked it. It was nice to see a man with goals. Shit. I might needs to rethink about telling him all about the intelligence that Santos was able to find out. He wouldn't be needing that kind of news right now.

I wasn't really payin' too much mind to where it was I was going, and I near enough stepped on top of a little Hispanic girl who was walking towards me. I looked down at her and grinned as I apologized for almost hurting her and her pretty bunny rabbit, and she looked up at me and smiled. I was stunned. I looked up at the two women who were with the child, and nodded a greeting, and they smiled back as they moved beyond me. I kept walking, their smiles tickling at my memory; I knew the smile they shared. I pushed the elevator button and it struck me like a lightning bolt. They were Ranger's kin, or I wasn't a ….

I caught up with the trio quickly. "Excuse me, ma'am? Ma'am, one of you wouldn't be Marina, now would you?" The one who I guessed was indeed Marina turned around and gave me a quick nod. "That would be me, sergeant," she said, glancing at my lapel.

"Ma'am, I'm Jeremiah Johnston, I've been with your brother for the past four years. I just wanted to tell you that Ranger is a brave man. I'm proud to serve on his team." I stuck out my hand and she grasped it. "Marina Dennison", she stated and her handshake was firm. "This is my sister, Celia Cortez," she continued. That one looked like she was ready to pop, she did.

Then I looked down at the child. "You must be Julie," I said in a soft voice, as I squatted down to her level, and I offered my hand. She looked at me with serious eyes, eyes that seemed sad and old. She nodded but didn't offer to shake, so I withdrew my hand silently. "I'm a good friend of your daddy's. You can call me Tank," I told her. "What is your bunny's name?"

"Mrs. Wabbit," she spoke quietly. "Well, hello to you too then, Mrs. Wabbit." I took her fuzzy purple hand and pretended to shake it for all I was worth, and Julie giggled, as I hoped she'd do.

"She can only hear me," she whispered.

"Ah, I didn't know that. Tell her it was very nice to meet her, would you do that for me, Miss Julie?" I stood back up, and nodded towards the door.

"He's wiped out, to tell you the truth, ma'am." I noticed there was a seating area to our left and indicated that maybe we'd sit a spell; I bet that Celia would appreciate that right much. We settled ourselves and little Miss Julie hugged the edges of the couch, staying very close to Celia.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant, I don't recall any Jeremiah's from talking to Carlos. Not that we were in close contact but…" Marina trailed off, looking at me intently.

"Ma'am, he would be calling me Tank. Ain't nobody but my Mama call me Jeremiah nowadays. Even got's all my baby sisters calling me Tank, and my Mama sure don't like it." I grinned at her.

"Ah, yes. Tank. That definitely changes things. Please, call me Marina. Carlos doesn't talk much," she said, smiling sadly, "but I can't recall a conversation that didn't include your name these past years. I am glad to know that he has found a true friend in you. He's always been somewhat of a loner."

"Yes, ma'am, I mean Marina; that he is. Ranger's a tough nut to crack. But a better man I can't say I ever met." I looked over at Julie, and then back at the ladies. "She is the spitting image of him."

I leaned forward and confided to them. "He misses knowing her, you know. He would go into a funk whenever her latest photo arrived. He wouldn't talk about her much; don't rightly know if anyone else knows she exists. But oh, Ranger, he talked about Miss Julie to me; told me about her, and whatever it was that was sent along with her pictures, he'd be puffed up proud of any little bit of story he was given. He was always carrying on, 'My girl, she'd be that age now; my girl might have hair that's long like that,' when he'd see little Iraqi girls in the streets. I could see pain in his eyes that he never really got to know her. I can't tell you how happy I am that you have brought her to see him."

I over looked at Julie who was trying very hard to act like she wasn't paying attention. "It'll do your daddy a world of good to be able to see your smile, Miss Julie." She grinned timidly and then leaned into her Aunt Celia's arms, and hid her face from me. Cute little girl, I thought.

"Well, it was so very nice to make your acquaintance ladies, but I gots me a long ride home if'n I'm gonna make my mama's dinner table tonight; I best be moving along."

Xxxx

I had no concept of time; there were no windows in the room I was in. It had dim overhead lights, and the infernal machines that glowed green and red and beeped, but no clocks or anything to tell me how long I had slept this time. This was irritating. I had awakened because of the pain; now I was going to have to find a nurse apparently, to administer meds, because they said I tried to OD earlier! I hate to admit I'm in pain; it's a sign of weakness. My body turning on me. I could use food too, I thought. I don't remember the last time I'd eaten.

I thought again of Wingnut. What a fucking waste. We were tossed into the middle of some serious shit, and they just left….goddamn cluster fuck. I needed to get some answers. I needed a phone. After some drugs. And food. Ok. There is what I need to do. I need medicine, food and a phone. My head feels clearer, and I have a goal. Better. I closed my eyes to take a small rest before I implemented my plan.

A stronger beam of light hit my eyes and awakened me. In the door was the silhouette of a woman; she stopped for a moment, gesturing to someone else, and then came in alone. Good. I had a plan I needed to implement, the nurse was part of phase one. As she approached me, I realized with a start that it was my sister.

"Carlos," she addressed me, as she swiped her hand across my forehead. It was such a small gesture, but brought me back to my childhood, and nights of her tucking me into bed. My eyes welled involuntarily. "Rina," I groaned. She took my hand and held it to her.

"Baby, are you ok, hijo?" She whispered to me, all the while looking at my monitors. Can't take the doctor out of the woman.

"Rina, can you get me some pain meds? Please mama," I almost begged. I was dying of the pain. I didn't care anymore if anyone knew that I was weak.

She began to rummage around the bed, looking for the pain pump, but I stopped her. "They took it from me, Marina."

She gave me her concerned, yet pissed look and then pressed the call button firmly and repeatedly. She began checking all my wires and tubes, and had been poking around my injuries when a nurse came in.

"What can I do for you _soldier_?" she said gruffly to me but she was staring at Marina. Shit. I remembered her. She was the one with the fish mouth. She cleared her throat, getting ready to go off on Marina too; which was fine with me because then she'd stay out of my face.

"Why has his pump been deactivated? His bandages need changing. They are wet from the drainage tubes. Who is responsible for the care of this _man_?" I loved watching Marina in action. The nurse's guppy pose was back from the tirade being let loose.

I was finally comfortable. I had been given clear instruction on the proper use of the pain pump by Nurse Guppy, who was none to thrilled with Marina at the moment. Marina couldn't give a shit. She hovered over her as my bandages were changed, a none-too-fun experience. As she left, Marina came back to my side. "Baby, are you feeling better?" Back to brushing back the lock of hair that has fallen into my face since I was a tiny boy. "Hey, they let you have this long hair in the Army?" She raised her eyebrow at me.

"Why'd you think I wanted Special Ops, Rina? You know I hate that damned buzz cut." I grinned at her. This had been a battle since I was a kid. I had always worn my hair long, pulled back into a pony tail since I was a young teen. And she'd argued with me about it since then. This time she smiled at me.

"I see you are starting to feel a bit better, Carlos. I have someone else here to see you. I think you'll be happy." She smiled at me. "I am going to go see if I can't track down your doctors and find out what's up with that leg, ok? It still looks pretty rough."

"Rina." She turned back from the doorway. "Thank you. I know they wanted to take my leg. Tank told me you raised holy hell with the doctors in Germany. Thank you for not letting them."

"Carlos." She just smiled at me and opened the door.

Xxxx

My Aunt Marina had gone into the room a long time ago. Aunt Ce Ce and I sat outside, and watched as the nurse went in and out a few times. I was getting tired, and had curled up in Aunt Ce Ce's lap, but her baby was moving and kicked me. I giggled and put my mouth on her belly and told him to stop it. She rubbed my head and smiled at me. I love my Aunt Ce Ce.

Aunt Marina came outside to us finally. "He's feeling a lot more comfortable now that his bandages have been changed and he got his meds," she told Aunt Ce Ce. "Go on in. I told him he had a special visitor, Julie. I'm going to go find his doctor."

She turned around and left us, and Aunt Ce Ce tried to get up. "I don't wanna," I told her.

"Sweetie, it's ok."

"But I don't want to. Why do I have to go in there?" I didn't want to meet this man. I had a Daddy already.

"Julie. Stop. Let's go, now." She was getting grumpy, so I got up and took her hand anyway. I never get to do what I want.

The room he was in wasn't green. It was white. But there wasn't lots of light on in there. Aunt Ce Ce held the door open and pushed me into the room in front of her. The man was lying on his bed and I think he was asleep. He had his eyes closed. Aunt Ce Ce took my hand and made me walk to the bed. As we got close I looked at him. He looked like Aunt Ce Ce. She said he was her brother.

He heard us come I guess and he opened his eyes. He wasn't asleep.

He looked at me for a second, then he looked at Aunt Ce Ce, and he got a smile on his face. When he smiled he didn't look a bit scary.

"Celia," he said to her, and she went to him and leaned over and kissed him. She held his hand and they talked in Spanish, but I don't think they were mad at each other.

She stood up straight again, and he reached out and touched her belly. "Another?" He said, and he sounded like he was laughing at her. Then he looked at me again, and said to her, "And which one is this?"

She pulled me in front of her, and pushed me close to the bed. I hugged Mrs. Wabbit really tight. "Carlos, this is Julie."

"Julie? My girl?" the man said, like he was surprised, and he looked up at Aunt Ce Ce but he put his hand out to me and wanted me to come closer. I leaned back into Aunt Ce Ce's body, but she gave me a little push, so I walked to him.

"Julie. Oh, you have grown so much." I guess I have seened him before. But I don't remember. He was smiling at me though, so I guess I was a good surprise, like that Tank man said I would be. His fingers felt rough on my face, but he wanted to touch my cheek, and my hair. I let him because Aunt Ce Ce was there with me. "You are beautiful, princess, just beautiful," he said and his voice was soft, and then dropped his hand back on the bed. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Celia, thanks." He looked at her and it was like they were talking to each other but they weren't even speaking anything. Aunt Ce Ce pulled over a chair and sat down on it. I climbed into her lap, and they talked to each other for a few minutes; but I didn't really pay attention to them. I was thinking about this man, and cuddling Mrs. Wabbit, because she was very nervous.

He didn't seem mean. I don't think he should be my daddy though, because Daddy is. But Aunt Ce Ce is my family, like mommy was, and she said he was her brother, so I guess he is my family. He does look like Aunt Ce Ce. That Tank man had said I looked like him, too. But I still don't want to live with him. I want to stay with Aunt Ce Ce till my Daddy comes back.

Aunt Ce Ce asked me to get up out of the chair. She stood up and told me she was going to go find the bathroom, and she'd be back soon. She told me I had to stay here in this room and not to leave for any reason. I nodded and climbed back into the chair and looked at him. He had closed his eyes again. I guess he was really tired.

I kept looking at him, but he didn't move. I got out of the chair and walked over and looked at him closer. I touched his face where he had a beard. He turned his head to me and opened his eyes. "What's your name? Are you very sick? You aren't going to heaven are you?"

Xxxxx

I must have nodded off again. My daughter was here. I couldn't believe it. Her pictures, they hadn't made me realize how big she was getting. "No, Julie I'm not going to heaven." Ever, I silently added. "I am still a bit sick, I guess. My name is Carlos."

"I wouldn't want you to go to heaven; I don't like heaven," was her response.

That caused me to look at her again. "I've never heard someone say that before, Julie. What don't you like about heaven?"

"When you go there you can't come back. That's not fair. Mommy went there and she didn't even say goodbye to me first," Julie stated, and there were tears on the edges of her eyes.

"Princess, what are you talking about?" I asked her, as I reached out to catch the tear as it rolled down her cheek. She took her bunny's ear, and wiped the other cheek and looked at me sadly, her dark brown eyes huge with unshed tears. Oh my god. What happened? She looked like she was about to fall apart and I didn't know what to do. "Come here Julie," I held my arm out to her, "Tell me." She came closer without hesitation. "Do you think you can get up on the bed without my help?" I asked her.

She sniffled and nodded her head vigorously. "I like to climb the monkey bars at the park," she told me, and just like that, she was on the bed beside me. Rachel was dead? When, how? I can't just ask this little girl all of this. But that's what she said. She said her mother was in heaven. She placed her stuffed rabbit on my chest and looked at me seriously. "This is Mrs. Wabbit. She can't hear you talk, but if you want to tell her something, you can tell me, and I will tell her."

"Well, would you tell her thank you for taking good care of you while I wasn't around? I gave her to you a long, long time ago, when you were just a little baby." I remembered choosing it too. It was the day I met Julie for the first time. Of course it had looked a lot shinier back then, and it had a big white bow. I could tell it had been well loved for the past five years.

"You did?" Her eyes grew wide.

"I did." That seemed like the right thing to have told her, because she became visibly more relaxed. She took the bunny and hugged it tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered into my ear. Her cheek rubbed mine and she giggled. "It tickles," she said, and took her fingers and rubbed my beard. Yep, that tickled, I had to agree. I hoped someone would let me shave soon. "Do I have to call you daddy?"

Ok, this is where kids make me crazy. They jump from thing to thing, emotion to emotion. I didn't want to upset her, but she just told me her mother died. But obviously that topic was for another time. I didn't know what to say about this; I had no idea what she called Ron, or whether he'd be upset. Shit. Those sneaky sisters of mine, they obviously decided to make themselves scarce.

"No, Julie, you don't have to. You can call me whatever makes you comfortable. Most people call me Carlos, but if you want to call me Dad, Daddy, or Papi, that's ok. What do you call your father at home?"

"Daddy. But he ran away from home after mommy died." She was fidgeting again. "I know a stupid boy at school and his name is Carlos. I don't like him. Your friend was here before. He called you Ranger. Is that your name too?"

My friend? "Oh, you met Tank?"

"Uhm hmm."

"Ranger is my nickname in the Army. My full name is Ricardo Carlos Manoso."

"My last name is Martine. Why aren't you called Ricardo? I like Ranger. Can I call you that? I don't want to call you daddy. I think Daddy might get sad if I did."

"That's fine, Princess."

She shifted and fidgeted on the bed, and then she yawned. "I'm sleepy."

"I think you can fit if you want to lie down," I suggested, and she did. Just like that, here I was cuddling on a bed with my little girl. My head was spinning; I didn't want to disturb this little memory I was creating. She curled over in my arm till she found a comfortable spot and I watched her face. She looked like me. It was amazing, really. I didn't see a bit of Rachel in her.

Her eyes were closed and her thumb found it's way to her mouth. I had to chuckle a bit; my mother had struggled with me to get me to quit that habit too. I gently removed her finger from her mouth, and she looked up at me. "You're too old for that."

I closed my eyes for a little bit, just soaking in the feeling of her warm little body tucked against me, trusting me. But I needed to know what was going on. "Julie, you told me something, and I wanted to ask you about it?" I asked quietly. But I got no response. I opened my eyes and looked at her. She had fallen asleep. That didn't sound like a bad idea. I closed my eyes again, and drifted off.

Xxxx

"Julie, sweetie, it's time to go now." Aunt Ce Ce was tugging at me. I rubbed my eyes and looked at her. I tried to sit up, but Ranger's arm was holding me. I picked it up a bit and squeezed out from under it. He didn't move. He must be very tired. "We are going to let him sleep, ok?" She said quietly. I nodded and climbed off the bed.

"Are we gonna come back to see him again?" I whispered.

"Yes. We'll come back tomorrow morning."

"Ok." I held Mrs. Wabbit to my ear, and she told me she wanted to stay with Ranger tonight. So, I tucked her into his arm, right where I laid down before. I kissed her goodnight and told her not to be scared and I would see her in the morning. I took Aunt Ce Ce's hand and was ready to walk out the door with her, when he called to me.

"Princess." I turned around.

"You forgot your bunny."

"Nuh uh. She said she wanted to stay with you tonight Ranger," I explained to him. "I will come back to see you in the morning, so she won't be too scared to sleep away from me. I promised her."

"Are you sure?"

"Uhm hmm. Goodnight Ranger."

"Night, princess. Night, Celia." He said, and he closed his eyes again. "Celia, por la mañana, necesitamos hablar."

I don't know what he said, but I hoped there wasn't going to be yelling.

Xxxxx

I really wish I could stay awake longer. I know it's the pain meds, but damn it if I don't take them I can't stand it for too long. This better change soon. I needed to speak with Marina and Celia. Find out what was going on with Ron; what had happened to Rachel. I looked at the clock on the television set. I had found the remote this morning.

The nurses here are closed mouthed and rude. They don't talk to you, and shit, I can't remember one who even looked at me when talking to me. I was just another chart, another soldier brought in as damaged goods. I must be looking pretty rough, I thought ruefully, if not a single woman had come on to me since I had arrived. It was different for sure. They were poking and prodding, pulling on bandages and shit this morning and I didn't get the slightest chatter from them. Hardly even a good morning, Sergeant.

I pressed the call button. I needed a phone. I was told that as long as I was in ICU, no phone. Fuck. "My visitors from yesterday, do you know how to contact them?" I asked. Nope. Great. Visiting hours weren't for another 3 hours. This nurse, at least, smiled at me apologetically. She smoothed out my blanket, checked a few of my tubes. And then she handed me the bunny with a smile. "My daughter left it for me," I told her. She nodded and left. I laid the toy in the crook of my arm and closed my eyes.

I woke up when I felt someone tugging at me. I looked down and saw Julie reaching up for Mrs. Wabbit. I grinned slightly, "Good morning princess."

"Good morning Ranger. Did Mrs. Wabbit sleep ok?" She was hugging her bunny very tightly.

"She did. Did you sleep ok without her?"

"I sleeped with Aunt Ce Ce, because I was lonely. But I'm glad I let her stay with you. She said she likes you." I looked at Marina, and I could see she was very pleased with this little interaction.

"Marina, my doctors?"

"You know I am supposed to let your doctors discuss this with you, right?"

"Marina," I growled. Julie was climbing up onto the bed with me, and she stopped still when I spoke.

"You'll live." She smacked me on the head. "I can tell you are getting better because your temperamental side is back."

"Rina." I rubbed Julie's arm to reassure her. Raising my voice was stupid. She probably thinks I'm mad. She looked at me and smiled. She ran her fingers along my cheek; thankfully I had a shave this morning. "It's smooth, nice." She rubbed her cheek against mine, like yesterday, and then she kissed me. My daughter kissed me. I ran my hand over her hair, smoothing it down, fingering it idly, and hugging her to me. This was unexpected, this feeling of, of---what was I feeling? Acceptance? Love?

I turned my attention back to Rina. "You have a lengthy recuperation ahead of you, there's no getting around that. Your ankle and foot were crushed; you currently have 20 functionality in your left kidney; they are unsure if that will change. The infection you developed was severe. You are lucky to still be with us, baby brother. Any more information you will need to discuss with your doctor, ok?"

"How long?"

"I don't know. They are going to want to move you to a rehabilitation center at some point."

"Find a doctor, will you, Rina? These nurses are not pleasant or informative."

I looked at my sisters, sitting in chairs side by side, and at my little girl on my bed. I needed to have this conversation, but I didn't want to upset Julie. "We need to talk" I said, nodding at Julie. "¿Usted habla espanol, Julie?" She looked up at me and shook her head no.

"Your mother never spoke to you in Spanish, Julie?"

"No. She only talked Spanish when her and Daddy were fighting."

I was not happy about that. Not a bit. I better get this started. I looked at Marina, and then Celia. I began to bombard them in rapid Spanish.

"Last night, Julie told me that Rachel had died. What happened? Why wasn't I informed? Where is she living? Where is her father?"

"Carlos. Calm down. No one kept anything from you. You have been out of communication for almost 7 weeks. You called me and told me you'd be unavailable, remember?"

I nodded. She took a deep breath and looked straight into my eyes. "A few days after that, Rachel was shot to death in the living room of their house." I started to interrupt, but she held her hand up.

"Let me tell you what I know before you start, ok? On Tuesday afternoon Ron met Julie at the bus stop, which wasn't normal; he should have been at work. He had the baby, Xavier, with him and he loaded Julie up into the SUV. He drove them to his mother's house. He told Julie they were having a sleepover party with Nana. He told his mother he wanted to have a romantic dinner with Rachel. He packed enough clothes and toys for a few days, and kissed them goodnight. No one has seen or heard from him since."

"Mrs. Martine called the house numerous times on Wednesday to find out when someone would be collecting Xavier. She had driven Julie to kindergarten in the morning. The bus driver said no one met Julie at the stop on Wednesday afternoon so he kept her with him through the entire route, and came back. Still no one was there. He called the police, as they have been instructed to do, and he and Julie waited on the bus stop until they arrived."

"The officers peered into the living room and saw blood pooling into the hallway. CPS was called, and they collected Julie. By Thursday, Celia had been contacted; Mrs. Martine gave them her name."

"Rachel had been shot multiple times in the head. There was no forced entry; there was no disturbance in the house. No motives. No suspects, other than Ron."

I was seething. I kept trying to interrupt, to get the answers I wanted. I realized that Julie was cringing, holding her bunny very tightly; she was almost shaking. I told them to stop talking. "Someone, take her out of here" I gritted through my teeth. "She said she only heard Spanish when there was fighting. I don't want her to think we are fighting." I rubbed her back in the suddenly quiet room, and I spoke very softly. "Julie, do you think you and your aunt Celia can go find me today's newspaper? I bet they have a little shop downstairs." She looked at me timidly, and her eyes were full of hurt. "Princess, I promise, we aren't fighting, ok?" She nodded, but I don't think she believed me. Damn it. I want her to have good memories of me, not this. Fuck.

I lay back and closed my eyes. After a few minutes of processing everything, I looked over at Marina. "Go on."

"Well currently there are two directions the investigators are exploring. They are discussing domestic violence; Julie told the officers that they fought a lot, but like she said, in Spanish, and her Spanish is limited to a handful of phrases and very common words. Nothing that she could tell them. There were money issues. They over-drew monthly and had a number of outstanding debts."

"That led the investigation into other areas. Carlos, they currently believe that Rachel was murdered as a warning for Ron to stop cheating someone or some group out of money. It seems he may have been involved in gun running activities. They are still just at the beginnings of investigating this concept, though. Not a sign of him; his mother hasn't heard from him. She has kept Xavier, but she told Celia she couldn't take care of two little kids at her age. Celia got the courts to give Julie to her; otherwise she would be in foster care right now."

I rubbed my hand over my face. This was so fucking bad. Poor kid. Marina sat quietly for a moment, I guess letting me soak it all in, and then she said we needed to finish the conversation before Celia got back.

I nodded and then started talking. "The judge gave her custody? That's good. She seems to have a close relationship with Celia. It's a good fit." Marina stood up and walked to my bedside when I said that.

"Baby. She can't keep her. She is going to have her sixth child in a few weeks. Rebecca, the oldest, is only eleven." Her voice was quiet, soothing. "She can't keep Julie, Carlos."

"Are you going to take her then?" I asked. She looked at me with something bordering on sympathy or astonishment. Then her face blanked and was unreadable. "Carlos. I work 65 hours a week at minimum. It's taken 22 years to get you, Jason and Craig out of the house. I'm finished child-rearing, sans a random mental health weekend." Her eyes were boring into mine. "Carlos. She's yours."

Oh, no. I could see where she was going. I couldn't do this. What the fuck is she thinking? I went off on her. "I gave her up because I couldn't take care of her! Are you crazy? I know nothing about five year old girls. I live on a base in Iraq. I disappear for 6 weeks at a time, off in god knows where; I can't be bringing her with me! I am not a suitable provider for her. I'm not a role model! What do you expect me to do Rina? Give up my career? I have nothing else."

Fuck. I had a hundred questions to ask her, what on earth would possess either of them to think I could raise Julie? At that moment the doctor decided to finally make an appearance. Wonderful. He introduced himself as Dr. Bjorklund, and he seemed earnest, sincere. Pretty damned young too, I thought. I was seething, but tried not to take it out on him. He flipped through my charts and peered at my leg, and then he wanted to do a bit more thorough exam, so he tried to get Marina to leave. Good luck buddy. I grinned despite my irritation at her, and finally told him it was fine if she stayed. She might as well hear it from him, because I don't talk Doctor anyway, and then she can interpret for me.

He laughed. I guess he thought I was humorous, but in reality, I just know my sister. Teeth into a bone like a rabid dog. Suddenly I didn't mind if the examination lasted all day. I would put off the inevitable conversation about Julie. Good god. What are they thinking? I know she and Celia had orchestrated this visit carefully. I thought about last night and them just leaving Julie in here with me. I am not family material. I don't have a fucking clue. I don't want kids, remember? I stood there in the courthouse and told the judge I wanted nothing to do with her; Ron and Rachel could have her. I'd be happy with her photo and an update on occasion.

I didn't expect to ever see her again. I had put away most of every payday for her, for her education, in the event of my death. Not that I had ever told Rachel. Shit. Seems like that was a good call; it would have just ended up in Ron's hands. I had very little in the line of material needs over the past years. Julie had a nice nest egg. I was doing the right thing. I could at least help her with school. Papi would be proud of me, I thought. All my pay was invested in the ways he had always suggested; real estate and insurance. Guess I had been listening as a little kid after all.

Julie. Seeing Julie. I had always figured I would satisfy myself with pictures and the occasional story that Celia would provide. And they had been nice glimpses into the innocent world that others got to live. I thought of my life; the risks I took, the things I had done at the behest of my government. Things people would never believe; things people wouldn't want to believe that their government permitted; orchestrated. I was not a suitable role model for a child. I took repeated deep breaths, trying to find my center. I needed to calm down. I didn't throw temper tantrums anymore. I was capable of calming down, and looking at this rationally.

"Sergeant, are you ok?" I heard Dr. Bjorklund ask. Fuck. I wasn't listening to what he was saying. His hand was on my wrist. I bet he was having a field day with my racing heart rate. I breathed deeply again. "I'm fine Doctor. My mind was elsewhere."

"Not somewhere happy, it would seem," he said with a sad grin. "Take it easy soldier, ok? You have a long recovery ahead of you. It's not going to be an easy ride."

"I feel like I may have missed something, Sir." I said to him, looking at Rina. Her eyes were watery.

"Sergeant? I just told you and your sister here that your rehabilitation on that leg is probably going to be in the area of six to nine months. That combined with your internal injuries; well, it's been determined that you will be eligible for a medical discharge. Your sister will be investigating rehabilitation facilities closer to her home."

Why was there nothing available for me to throw? I blew the air out of my nose; nostrils flaring, hands gripping the sheets, my knuckles white. I counted to 10, then 20. I could feel my pulse slow down; my heart stopped racing. I looked at the doctor, and then at Marina. She nodded to me. I closed my eyes, and breathed deeply. My world was just turned upside fucking down.

Xxxx

Aunt Ce Ce and me had to stay outside the room where Ranger stayed. She had opened the door for us to go in and I could hear Aunt Marina and Ranger talking real loud and they were still talking in Spanish. I know Ranger said they weren't fighting but I think they may have been anyway. Mommy always said she wasn't fighting with Daddy but they were.

We sat down on the couch in the hall. I curled closer to Aunt Ce Ce. She was nice and rubbed my arms, and it made me feel safe. "Aunt Ce Ce, I don't want to leave you. Please don't send me away," I whispered to her. I don't know if she heard me, but she didn't answer me.

Aunt Marina came out of the room a little while later, and told Aunt Ce Ce that she was going for coffee. She wanted Aunt Ce Ce to go with her. They asked me if I wanted to go up to the cafeteria, but I didn't want to sit at the table and listen to them talk. I was getting bored of hospitals and grownups. I wanted to go outside and play. But I didn't think they'd listen.

"Can't I go wait for you in there?" I asked, pointing at Ranger's door. "That's fine, sweetie," Aunt Ce Ce said, but I think Aunt Marina didn't want me to. "Baby, he may be sleeping now."

"I'll just sit there quietly, I promise. Please." I held Mrs. Wabbit tightly and waited for someone to tell me no. But they looked at each other, and nodded. "Ok, baby, but you stay right there with your father, alright? Don't go wandering about. We will be down in a bit."

I pushed open the door carefully, it was very heavy. Ranger had his eyes closed, I guess he was sleeping. I still would rather wait here. I creeped quietly to the chair next to his bed, very carefully to not wake him up; but before I got into the chair, he was looking at me. "You're back," he said.

"Uh huh. They wanted to go get coffee," I told him while I got turned around in the chair. I pulled Mrs. Wabbit up with me and started to play with her.

Ranger was nice because he didn't talk to me like other adults always did. He just closed his eyes again, so I let him go back to sleep. A little while later, I felt like he was watching me, I don't know why I feeled it, but I looked at him and he was awake again. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Then he closed his eyes again.

I was getting bored. I got out of the chair and went over to the bed, and watched Ranger sleep. His face was darker than mine, and his hair was just as long as mine. That was silly I thought, and I giggled. I think I woke him because he was looking at me. His eyes were very dark brown.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing."

"What were you laughing about," he said to me.

"Your hair is longer than mine. You're a boy. You have to get it cut."

"I don't like short hair," he told me.

"Oh."

"Why are you watching me," he wanted to know.

"I was bored."

"And it's not boring to watch someone sleep?"

"I was learning you. You look like me," I explained.

"No, you look like me." It looked like his mouth wanted to smile but he wouldn't let it.

"I think you're silly."

His eyes got wider, and he said, "I've never been called silly before."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not silly."

"I think you are."

"Do you?"

"Uh huh."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Well I think you might be silly too."

"Why?"

"Because you like watching people sleep."

"I don't want to move to your house."

"What?"

"I want to stay at Aunt Ce Ce's house. My Daddy knows where she lives."

"Julie."

"Everyone is saying he won't come back but he will, Ranger, he will, he has to. He loves me."

Xxxxx

"Julie." How the hell do I respond to that? 'That's fine kid, 'cuz I don't want to have you live with me anyway?' Shit.

I looked at her, and her eyes were starting to fill with tears. God, don't cry. I don't know what to do if you start crying. "C'mere." I patted the bed, and had her climb up onto it with me. I let her sit for a few minutes and she didn't seem to mind the quiet.

I lay there, thinking about all the things Marina told me. I knew she was right. I had no choices; it made no difference if I wanted Julie or not, I was going to have to do this. Step up and take on the responsibility I had managed to avoid all these years. I wasn't fit to continue with the Rangers, not based on what the doctor had just finished telling me. At least for a good while I would be laid up. I didn't see myself putting in a dozen years behind a desk to get to retirement. I was not about to be a pencil pusher for a government that walked away, that was willing to count us among the casualties of war.

Who knows if I could get back to the place I had been physically? Hell, right now I couldn't function without pain meds. And I wasn't really functioning with them either. I really just wanted to go back to sleep. Thinking was pushing my brain beyond its current capabilities. Damn. I opened my eyes again and realized she was still looking to me, waiting for me to give her reassurance. She expected me to have the answers. Shit.

"I understand," I said to her softly. I really did, that was the thing. I recalled when my parents died, and the denial and hate and frustration I had taken out on the world in general and on Marina in particular. I was damned lucky she had put up with me as long as she had. I took Julie's hand in mine. "I know it's going to be difficult, but it's the way it is now."

She didn't look convinced, and I certainly didn't feel convinced. Oh, we were going to be a great pair. I tried to sound positive, like I knew what I was talking about. "Princess, sometimes we have to do what we have to do, even if we don't want to, ok?" She nodded finally. "What about when my Daddy comes back? Can I live with him again?"

No. I am never letting that son of a bitch near you Julie; if I find him and he's still alive he will wish he were dead. I knew people who knew people. I was prepared to put some calls out as soon as she walked out of the room. The answers were going to be found and the bastard was going to pay. But how could I tell her that her Daddy, whom she apparently idolized, probably got her mother killed? I looked at the tears welling at the edges of her eyes and told her, "We'll figure it out then, ok?"

We sat quietly for a few minutes, holding hands. It was nice, having this child believe in me; trusting me to make things right. I wished I believed in me. Her hand was soft, her fingers so small and delicate, a chipping coat of bright pink nail polish on her nails. Who put that junk on her hands? She's just a little girl!

I rubbed my fingers along her nails. "Pink?" I asked. My eyebrow rose in question. And she smiled, her tears a thing of the past. "Aunt Ce Ce did it! And my toes too! You wanna see?" She asked and began to reach for her sneakers.

"No. That's ok." And I couldn't help but laugh. I guess fingernail polish is going be a part of my life now. I hope someone can teach me how to put it on. I can't believe this is actually happening. I am a trained killing machine for the government and I am changing careers to manicurist to a five year old?

"Where is your house? Will I have my own room? When are we going to go there? Do you have any kids?" This child changes gears fast. And here's the thing: I don't have a house; I have no idea where we will be living. I didn't think I wanted to live in Miami. Rina was in Jersey. That was a possibility. Or Philly, New York City. Someplace like that. If I knew what I was going to do with my life it would be easier.

I always expected to be a soldier till I died or retired, whichever came first. Dying was what I expected to happen. I had told Celia that day at court I couldn't be Julie's dad, because I believed I would die in the service of my country. She would be better off with Ron and Rachel! Now Rachel is dead; Ron was the cause of it, and I was alive. Unbelievable.

I had done well in the army; I found myself, I grew up out of the punk I had once been. I was very happy with the structure: the rules, the discipline, it suited my personality. Until this last fuck up. Right now, I was pissed. I needed to get healthy, and get myself back to doing something constructive. Like finding the bastard that is causing my girl to cry.

Before visiting hours today a number of men came by to see me. They were apparently aware of my experience and knew that I was being cut loose. They had planted a few ideas in my brain. There was a great demand for military trained ex-military in the private sector, but also in some of the other governmental agencies, they told me. My files were highly classified. I was Black Ops; that meant the men who visited today had some serious clearance. And connections. I had been stateside for barely 48 hours and was already being courted by the FBI, while lying in a hospital bed with a busted leg; and a call had come through from the DEA as well. I was told by another official I could write my own ticket. The CIA would be on the phone soon; ATF as well, I was told.

Just listen to everyone, don't commit to anyone yet. Keep my options open. None of them said that I was being cut loose; they all just seemed to be very interested in what my next move might be, they wanted to assist me in planning my future. Until speaking to Dr. Bjorklund, I didn't really give their visits much consideration, because I hadn't realized I was so badly wounded. Damn drugs have me unaware of anything going on. If I attached myself to one of them, I could be back in the field in months, as soon as I got on my feet, unfettered by the rules of the Army.

Fuck, that career path didn't seem any more amenable to caring for a 5 year old. Well, she won't always be 5, I thought. And suddenly that scared me even more, realizing someday I was expected to be responsible for a teenaged girl. What have I gotten myself into?

Xxxx

I sat in the grass under the tree and wiggled my toes. The grass was cool, and it tickled. Ranger was sitting on the porch with his hurt leg up on a table. I think he was grumpy again today, like always. There was a man talking to him. Ranger wasn't smiling. When the man came, Ranger told me to go find something to play with. I knew that. I always had to leave when he had company.

I wished I could go away for real, because I didn't like it here. My Daddy didn't come back yet, so I had to go with them when Aunt Marina and Ranger went back to New Jersey. Ranger said he grew up in this house because his mommy and daddy died too. But only my Mommy died when the bad men came. My Daddy just ran away because he was sad I think.

I pulled my dress over my knees and put my head on my legs. My dress was pretty; it was blue with daisies on it. Aunt Marina took me shopping and we got it and a bunch of other clothes for me too. I could see Ranger sideways like this. It was fun to look at everything sideways. Ranger was wearing what he always wore….a undershirt with no sleeves and a pair of shorts. In black. He said that was his favorite color. Yuck. My favorite color is pink. And purple, too, I told Mrs. Wabbit who was lying on the grass with me, and I think she was happy then.

We moved here when Ranger got out of the hospital, but he didn't have his own house so Aunt Marina let us move into her house. I got to have the room Ranger had when he was a little boy. It was on the second floor and he couldn't go up the stairs. It wasn't pink, but Ranger said when we got our own house I could have pink everything if I wanted! Aunt Marina made her office into a bedroom for Ranger because it was downstairs. She put her desk and her computer into the dining room. It seemed like everyone was always grouchy. Mrs. Wabbit and I stayed in our room a lot because it was always loud in this house.

Aunt Marina has two boys, but they were grown ups. They didn't live with us, but they came over for dinner a lot. I like my cousin Craig, but I don't like my cousin Jason. My cousin Jason calls me a pain in the neck. I told Ranger that once, and he told me he used to think that Jason was a pain in the neck when he lived there when he was a little boy. I laughed then. But Ranger didn't laugh. He never laughed a lot. He didn't smile. And he didn't play with me. He spent a lot of time talking on the phone, but he would stop when I walked in the room. He used Aunt Marina's computer whenever she was at work in the hospital.

She was a doctor! She cut peoples heads open. I don't know why you would do that, but that's what Jason told me. He told me she would cut my head open to fix it. I cried that night, and Ranger let me sleep in his bed, because he couldn't tuck me back into my bed upstairs. I liked to sleep with Ranger because he made me feel safe. He put his arms around me and held me until I fell asleep. And because when he was asleep, he wasn't growling or sad or angry looking. I liked to wake up and watch him sleep in the morning.

I was supposed to go to first grade soon. Aunt Marina and Ranger argued about that too. Everything made them yell at each other. Aunt Marina wanted me to go to the school that was near this house; I saw it when we went for a car ride. It had a nice play yard in it. It was public, Ranger said, and he didn't like that. I don't know what it meant. He wanted me to go to a school called private, but I don't know where that one is.

And then I think Aunt Marina got mad because said he had to get his own house, and I could go to school near that house. I wanted to go back to Florida to my own school that I know, because Miss Court was supposed to be my teacher in first grade, but they wanted to yell about this other school instead.

Xxxx

I signed the last of the papers in the pile in front of me and leaned back in my chair. Damn it there's a lot of paperwork in property transfer. I had been signing my name for an hour. I sold four pieces of property left to me by my father, had been transferring funds, purchasing other property and been taking care of other legal matters, like my will and Julie's trust fund. I held the pen still, sure that De Fazio was going to drop another stack in front of me, but it didn't happen.

"Done, Manoso. You're the proud owner of a house, an office building, a beach house," he laughed to himself, glancing down and shuffling through the stack, "a shitload of stock portfolios, money markets, and the sole custodian of Miss Julie Martine's fortune."

I threw the pen at him, and damn him, he caught it. "You missed your calling Tonio; you should be playing for the Mets," I laughed.

"Yah not gonna petition the courts for her name change?" He asked me, and I sobered quickly.

"No. Not currently. She's still sure Ron is going to return for her. It fucking kills me to hear her cry at night sometimes, begging her Daddy to come for her. And he won't be."

It was a statement, but Tonio knew me well enough to not ask how I knew so surely. My intelligence currently was leading me to believe that Ron had become fish food shortly after he dropped the kids off at his mother's house. Which was possibly absolving him of the actual murder, if not being the cause of it. Small comfort that would be to anyone.

I was trying to get evidence of that still. It was slow going; I wasn't mobile yet. Damn fucking leg. Three more surgeries since I was brought stateside. Every time I found myself almost vertical, capable of getting around on one crutch, starting some physical therapy in earnest they wanted to adjust something else in my foot. I was beyond over this experience. My upper body was getting a work-out, dragging my ass around, but I felt like I was never going to be on my own, be able to do the things I used to do. I was a physical person. A doer; not a sitter or a watcher. I certainly wasn't someone to rely on others.

I couldn't stand all the down time, the quiet. Well, as quiet as life can be in the home of Dr. Marina Dennison. She hadn't changed a bit since I grew up. She was still loud, a screamer. I felt like we were always at each others throats. As I lay in the dark on the too small twin bed that fit into her office, and considered the arguments afterward, it was almost always over nothing. It's just how she communicated. I disliked it. I was quiet. Looking at it from this end, I could understand why she and I always had issues when I was living under her roof. I was more suited to Celia's laid back temperament.

I knew it would be a good thing to get out of her house. Finally. Julie would be starting school next week. That one had been a real fight. I didn't want my girl going to public school in Trenton. Absolutely not. I remembered what it was like; I had always been the littlest kid, and was taunted and teased unmercifully.

I did some investigating, came up with a short list of private and parochial schools I would be willing to enroll her in and then began the search for a home in their neighborhoods. My needs had always been few, and taking Marina around to look at houses was an exercise in frustration. But I couldn't drive yet, so that's the way it went. Finally we both agreed on a neighborhood and a home that would be suitable to raise a young child in. I registered her at Our Lady Help of Christians, for the first grade class. They thought she was young for first grade; she didn't turn six till New Years Eve, but she had successfully completed kindergarten in Florida. She had visited the school once; the teachers found her mature enough for first grade, and she seemed excited.

With house buying and schooling out of the way all Rina had left to badger me about were my plans for earning a living. And who was going to raise Julie while I was off earning said living? The thought of those battles ahead just got me aggravated.

"Tonio, I said, offering him my hand. "I appreciate your assistance with all this," I gestured at the table full of papers.

"It's not easy being a millionaire, Carlos, not easy at all. Ya should be happy with your investments and how things are moving along though."

"I am, and it's in your hands, Tonio. It bores me. I understand it, I will know if you are cheating me," I glared good naturedly, "but I don't want the bother of handling it all. Thank you." I picked up my crutches and leaned on them to stand. "And now, my coach awaits." I nodded toward the door, where Rina was waiting on me. "My sister has arranged some interviews with _nannies_ this afternoon." I just shook my head in silent wonder. What had my life been reduced to?

"Anytime Carlos. Or should I be getting used to callin' ya Ranger? Word on the street is you're gonna be keeping me busy keeping yo ass outta jail." Tonio's eyebrow raised in silent question.

"Fuck. I hadn't realized I was making a name that quickly."

"Keep me informed, ok Manoso? Carlos; Ranger; whoever you want to be, I can't keep you safe if I'm the last to know, ok?"

"Yeah. I know….that was a mistake. It shouldn't have gone down that way. I'm gonna be out of trouble for a while, don't you think?" I looked down at my leg, wrapped and bandaged, _again_, from a surgery last week.

"Whatever. ATF will have your back if you get real deep, but they aren't gonna wanna know ya for stupid shit like pissing contests with the local gangs, ok? And the local gangs, they don't read the ATF handbook. Watch yourself. I don't wanna be havin' ta activate Julie's trust fund too soon, ya know?"

"Julie's bus won't be here for over an hour Carlos; that will give you time to interview properly and have the woman safely away if you don't like her, ok?" Rina was teasing me as we arrived at the house. She pulled into the driveway and stopped the car.

"Rina." I growled at her. She was pushing it. The way I glared at her would make anyone else piss their pants. Of course it had no effect on her.

"Carlos. Chill, will you? It's going to be fine. You can't do this on your own," she shook her head in what I guessed was disbelief as she opened the door. The place still hadn't been unpacked, and it was a mess, I would give her that. But I was on crutches! I couldn't do most of this by myself at the moment. I guess that was her point, I thought, looking at the stack of dirty dishes and pile of take out menus on the counter. Fuck.

I settled myself onto the couch and put my leg up; checked through the mail while checking my messages. I had three different people working on Intel about Ron. Something was going to pay off soon. The bell rang and I let Rina answer. Ok, here goes nothing. I have no idea what to be looking for in a nanny. I hope that Marina hadn't decided that now was the moment to butt out of my business, because I was going to need her assistance. "Right in here. Pardon the mess, they are still moving in," I heard Marina say as she came towards the den. I looked up as she called out "Carlos."

I blinked a few times and opened and closed my mouth. I was speechless.

xxxxx 

"Miss Ella? Why do you always call Ranger niño? Doesn't that mean _little_ boy?"

I laughed lightly. Julie Martine was such a joy to me. I looked at her across the kitchen table and smiled. Julie had her father's smile, and his curiosity.

"Because to me Carlos will always be my little boy."

"You're not his mommy though. She's in heaven with my mommy," Julie said to me, shoving half of her peanut butter sandwich into her mouth.

"Julie, don't stuff your mouth, and don't talk with your mouth full," I gently chided her but I answered her anyway. "I know, baby, but I have known him since he was little—littler than you. I took care of him since he was six months old. He is the son of my heart."

She picked up her napkin and wiped her face, and said "What's that?"

"My Louis and I, we never were blessed by God with children, querida, but if I had been, I would hope they would have been like your father. Carlos is like my son; I love him like he is. Your Abuela Estella, she always was so very good to me, and allowed me to love him dearly."

"You knew my gramma?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"Oh yes, she was a beautiful woman, querida….and so very gentle and loving…she loved her little boy to pieces."

"It's funny to think of Ranger as little," she laughed.

"Yes, it is," I responded, and looked out the window to the driveway, where he was leaning on one of his crutches, talking to some men I wished he wouldn't allow in the yard, near the house, near his little girl.

My Carlos had grown up big and strong. He reminded me so very much of his father. Intimidating is the first word that came to mind. Well, no incredibly handsome would be the first. I recalled the way Ricardo had looked when I first met him. Estella had been a very lucky woman to find such a gorgeous man. Not that my Louis wasn't handsome, but Ricardo! Ricardo was over sixty when we met, but he was still almost overwhelming.

Carlos had that same aura about him. Beyond handsome; but also dangerous, and intimidating. Beautiful to look at, no matter how old a woman I became, I thought; admiring his broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms. Oh, if only he could get his pretty head out of his pretty ass and grow up, I thought, shaking my head ruefully.

It was fall, well almost. Close enough…one of those late September days that tries to deceive you into believing humidity was only a bad dream, that ozone alerts were things of the past. The day was crisp; it cried out for a sweater, but the sun was warm and inviting. We were going to the park today. All three of us; and if I had to drag Carlos along by his ear, I would.

The past month I had worked for Carlos, and I had observed many things that needed changing, but the one that was going to be fixed first was how he behaved with Julie. He spent far too little time with his little girl. As soon as I was hired, he seemed to fade into the background and deprived himself and Julie of a relationship.

I knew he did it out of fear. He was afraid of getting fatherhood wrong, so he wasn't willing to try it. And he could argue the point with me till he was blue in the face, but I had argued him down for years. I raised him; I certainly knew him well enough! He had been this way since the first day I met him. Determined to succeed! That particular day it had been figuring out how to make his foot fit into his mouth. But he lay in the crib and worked at it till he got it right! I smiled, recalling his chubby little hands losing their grip on his foot over and over.

Oh, but when he found himself approaching a situation that he didn't think he could master, he would walk away from it totally. It happened with schoolwork; it happened with sports, it happened with girls. I got him through all those situations, and I was most certainly going to break him of this!

Xxxx

"Fine. Give me five minutes, ok?" Ella smiled just a little too smugly and closed the door. I ran my hands through my hair, and tied it back into a ponytail. Damn it. Ella was going to drive me to start drinking again. I think she developed some latent female Manoso genes. She got an idea into her head, and there it stayed. The park!?!?! What the hell do I need to be there for? Julie doesn't need my assistance on the slides. She can swing herself. She's a kid; she can play with the other kids. It's not like I didn't have things I needed to be doing!

I ran my hands over the pocket of my cargo pants to make sure I had my cell phone. I could still make some calls while I watched her play. That would make everyone happy; well, Ella and Julie would be happy at least.

I stood up, grabbed my crutch and headed carefully down the front steps. I was going to the park. Julie had closed the car door and buckled herself into her booster seat, when she let out a loud gasp. "Wait!!! Miss Ella, don't go yet!!" And she began to unbuckle herself, "I forgot Mrs. Wabbit!!"

"Julie. Forget it, get back in the car. Your rabbit can stay home this once," I said to her, aggravated. This is getting old. But Ella, she of course got out of the car, glared at me, and told Julie she would go inside and get the damned bunny. Julie buckled herself back in, and I swear I saw her stick her tongue out at me through the rear view mirror. I swiveled my head around quickly, but she was already looking out the window, waiting for Ella to return.

Ella said while we were in the downtown area near the park that she wanted to run some errands. I agreed, and she parked in the municipal lot across the street from the park. She would meet us by the fountain in the park in an hour. I knew what that was about too. Make me have to interact with Julie, play with Julie. I really was over the games she and my sister were playing. I hired a nanny in order to not have to do all this stupid shit!!! Julie was doing fine; she and Ella got on great. I trusted Ella with Julie implicitly.

After I got over Rina railroading me, of course. Ella had been in my family's service for years. I couldn't remember a time Ella wasn't there as a young boy. After my parents died, Ella stayed on with Rina and her husband, helping them raise the three of us boys. Till Jason turned 10 anyway and we all revolted about having a nanny. Ella and her husband Louis moved to Arizona. They said they were ready for retirement. I thought about them rarely. As I grew older I realized that we boys had almost run her out of town. We were devils. Well, no, I was the devil and my cousins were my apprentices, if I were to be honest with myself.

Finding Ella in my den was a shocking thing. I had never considered her as the solution to my problems. But Marina, she had kept in contact with them both, and found they didn't like Arizona or retirement as much as they had expected. Ella felt that the place she belonged was here in Jersey with my daughter. And I couldn't have agreed more. What had struck me as being a torturous experience, having to interview nutcases ala _Mrs. Doubtfire_ turned into dinner and conversation and Julie being tucked in that very night by Ella before we even agreed the job was hers.

I thought things were working smoothly. No more strange exchanges about how I could be a daddy if I didn't even know how to braid hair, or know who Dora was. Or who would make sure her pigtails were straight. Personally I was looking forward to the day her hair was long enough for one ponytail. _That_ I could handle. She had asked me once, how come I didn't know that little girls liked to play Married, and why wouldn't I be the daddy when she played it?

We were walking unhurriedly along the sidewalk together. She was practicing her reading skills as we slowly made our way from the parking lot to the park. I had given up the second crutch for good a week or so ago, and tried hard to ignore the one I took along with me, but her wandering, carefully reading words she knew in the store windows was fine with me and my foot. "Book. Store." She proudly pointed out to me, and I nodded absently. "Puppy?' 'Sale.' 'Food.' 'Pizza?' Ranger? What's the word before pizza? I don't know it." I hadn't been really paying attention, but I looked to where she pointed.

"That is the name of the person who owns the restaurant; Pino's," I told her and kept moving. But it was odd. I walked by but felt a nagging, a tugging at me, and I couldn't identify the feeling. By the time we made it to the corner, waiting for the streetlight, I realized what it was. I had had a memory of Stephanie. I hadn't had that feeling, that impulsive jump into my consciousness in a long time. Babe. I had kept Babe for my dreams. She didn't usually occupy my waking hours.

Julie wanted me to walk around the entire park, showing me all the things she and Ella usually did together. I couldn't really complain; the weather was nice, she ran around and around in circles so I wasn't having to rush and it was a good feeling to be mobile. I knew I would pay for it tomorrow. I would be sore; my leg was weaker than I liked to admit. But the only way I would ever get back into prime shape was by pushing myself. I really needed to get _me_ back. I was starting to feel more pulled together, less lost. The more active I became; the more control I had over my body, the more control I felt I had over my life. Lately I had been floundering badly. I was not expecting this separation, the return to civilian life, and its uncertainties, its freedoms, to have left me waving in the breeze as it had.

I was a man with no purpose. Other than finding Rachel's killer. And that was purely for my own satisfaction. And for Julie, I thought, watching her again. I was working with the ATF in reality, but I wasn't under a contract with them yet. I hadn't decided who to link up with. The FBI had made a good offer. But the ATF had some sympathy for my personal connection to this case and wanted to see what I was made of, so we had agreed to talk again after it was solved. But so far I was satisfied with working with them.

We had ended up pretty close to the fountains, and right nearby was the younger children's area, fenced and full of monkey bars, seesaws and such. Julie ran off to play and I leaned against a light pole, watching her. I looked down at what I was wearing—black cargo pants, a black tee shirt, and a black leather jacket. I had a pair of mirrored sunglasses on, and black running shoes, which didn't aggravate the foot. Oh and the knife strapped onto my ankle. I was still waiting for my concealed permit. Stupid fucker, I thought. I couldn't believe I had allowed myself to get arrested back in August. It was fucking up my plans. Gun or no, I was certainly not blending in with the soccer moms and their spawn, I thought, watching my girl play with the other kids in the area.

She really was a cute thing I had to admit; for a kid. She tugged at a part of me I hadn't known was there. My phone rang, and I pulled it out and checked the display. I had been waiting on this informant for a while. I glanced at Julie and then started talking. She ran toward me, and pulled my hand, but I glared at her and brushed her off.

"Ranger, sit down." She put her hands on her hips. "Your leg needs to rest." She grabbed my hand again, so I moved with her, paying her no attention, but listening to the man on the phone. She stopped me in front of a bench. "Sit here." I looked down, and saw what she had wanted. I nodded and sat, and waved my hand….'go back and play,' I mouthed. She didn't move, but came to me and tried to lift my leg up. I got the message and had to smile at her. Stubborn kid. When she had me settled in, she kissed me on my cheek, placed Mrs. Wabbit in my lap, and ran off again.

Xxxxx

"I am so sorry I'm late, Marylou! Really I am!" I apologized again, pushing the stroller while she tried to keep up with Mikey and Kenny. We got to the place in the park where the kids liked to play best and I settled onto a bench and bent down to take out baby Mary Elizabeth, who had begun to cry in earnest. I held her up to my shoulder, and had a flash of that day at grandpa Mazur's funeral when Joe tossed Mary Alice up onto his shoulder like a pro. I still wasn't at ease with it, but I felt a bit more proficient by now.

"It's ok, Steph, really!!! Three is a lot harder than two!! I barely made it myself. Getting the baby and all her stuff together and not losing track of one of them at the same time? Yikes!"

"So, have you guys settled on a nickname or will she always be Mary Elizabeth," I asked, still patting her and playing with her. "Well, Mikey likes 'Bef' best, and Lenny is partial to Marybeth, but I'm leaning towards Lizzie …. It changes everyday. Guys! Stop that!" she screeched and then looked back at me. "I just know I am glad it was a girl this time!! I don't think I could handle another one of _them_," she nodded towards her terrors, who seemed to have found new victim; a little dark haired girl was on the swing set.

"Here's her bottle, Steph," she said and I adjusted little Miss Lizzie in my arms and didn't even think I would break her. Great progress, I thought.

"Heck you are getting to be a pro there Miss Plum, has Joe been coaching you on motherhood?" She laughed and raised her eyebrow at me.

"Oh please. On odd days he sometimes talks about being my husband, on even days I think it might not be horrible to be his wife." I looked intently at the baby, not wanting to continue down this road. I was still a bit more bummed than I wanted to admit that it was our anniversary and he took off. But try to hide something from Mrs. Burg Grapevine. She could smell there was more to this than I was letting on.

"Spill it Steph."

"I don't know."

"STEPH!"

"I don't. Really. Joe isn't a bad guy, he's not. He's incredible for a Morelli, that's for sure. And I guess he thinks about settling down. I just, oh, I don't know Marylou! I don't want to fuck up again," I whispered quietly.

"Well, if not him, who? You've been dating him for a year!"

"I don't know," I said again, letting her take the baby and the burp cloth, thank you very much. The mess goes to the mother; the adoring fans don't need to be puked on. One more reason to let other people have the kids!

I opened my purse to find some lip gloss, and of course, had to dig into the depths to locate it. "It just doesn't feel --I don't know, permanent? Adult? Something. It feels like I will have settled. Joe was a womanizer all through high school and after; what if I'm not enough? I couldn't go through Dickie again, I just couldn't."

"Have you gotten a feeling he's still that way?"

"No. See, that's the thing. I can see he's changed." While we were chatting I figured I would attempt to tame the inside of my purse. I had piles and piles of business cards and receipts and candy wrappers and other shit stuffed into this purse! I looked at the date on one of the receipts. Last fall. I had grabbed this purse today because it had matched my new leather jacket, and tossed all the junk I needed on top of all the junk left there from last fall!! I shook my head sadly. I am officially a disaster.

I let Marylou try to analyze my love life while I analyzed my garbage. I nodded, and murmured agreement in all the right places. It's not like I hadn't heard this before, except Mare was nicer about it than my mother, who couldn't understand why I wasn't on my knees proposing to Joe, the last eligible male in the universe.

I glanced up at her, "You're right, Mare you are. Joe is a catch. And I just don't know why," I said, for the 30th time. And then put my head down again, back to digging through the refuse of my pocketbook…a tactile form of the refuse of my life. I pulled out a business card and stopped, staring dumbly at it.

"What? Steph, what is it? You've been staring at that for two minutes, I don't think you heard a word I said," Marylou expertly swapped the baby for the business card, and I didn't even notice. My mind had wandered, as I had found it doing recently. "Brain surgeon? There a problem I don't know about? Steph?"

"Huh?" I looked down at the baby. How'd I get her? "What?"

"Who's Dr. Marina Dennison," she read off the card, "and why did finding this make you look like you lost your best friend?"

xxxxx

I glanced at my watch, and then I glanced at the area where Julie was playing. The phone call had proven very interesting, and informative. Now I needed to get home, do some searches on the computer, make some more calls and book a flight to Miami. It looks as if I finally found the break I needed. And I was stuck at the park with a 5 year old. Ella was running late. I scrolled through my phone list. I had some of the numbers I needed. Julie was happily playing with two little boys and I was reasonably comfortable, I might as well make good use of my time.

xxxx

I didn't like these boys. They were mean. I am glad I gave Ranger Mrs. Wabbit to keep her safe. I looked at him, and she was still sitting in his lap. I tried to climb up the slide but they pushed me out of the way. I stomped my feet and told them they were bad. But they didn't even care. They just pushed me again. So I pushed the littler one back, and he fell onto the dirt after he came down the slide.

He jumped up and screamed at me. He screamed he was gonna tell his mommy, so I told him 'Fine, tell her! Baby!' And then he got mad at me again and he pushed me into the sandbox. Then the bigger boy grabbed him and told him his mommy was gonna be mad, you can't hit girls! See! I stuck my tongue out at him and climbed back up the ladder.

Xxx

Marylou had to take the baby into the restroom, because she had a really nasty diaper!! Whew, that was a close one, I thought, watching the boys.

I had to tell her though that it wasn't like I had a brain tumor or anything! It was just the card Carlos had given me. "Did she remember Carlos," I asked?

"Steph, I never met him and would have to be dead to not remember Carlos! But why do you have his sister's business card?"

"He gave it to me." I looked at it wistfully. "He had hoped I would change my mind about marrying Dickie," I smiled sadly at her. "He told me to call her; we could get in contact, if I changed my mind."

"And _why_ didn't you ever call after the divorce? Steph!!! What if he--?" I cut her off though.

"No. It was a few months, Mare. He was hoping I would call him in a few months, not _years_!!"

Then we noticed the smell. And I gladly traded baby for business card once again. I looked at it with regret. Carlos. I wonder what you are doing with your life, I thought. I hope you are safe, and happy. I stroked the tattered edges of the card, and because I was a foolish person, because I secretly craved that feeling that came over me every time I thought of Carlos, that feeling I was feeling now, just touching a card he gave me, I carefully placed this back into my purse, instead of into the growing mound of trash.

I noticed the boys were getting a little wild, and so I decided I had better go see what they were up too. Marylou had a _tone_. I could try a _tone_. Maybe it would work?

Xx

"Boys. Are you being nice?" Uh oh, Auntie Steph sounds angry, I thought. I grabbed Mikey's arm and whispered to him to be good. "Yes, we are." I looked at her and gave her a big smile. I lost my front teeth last week and got five dollars and now I had a cool hole in my mouth. Auntie Steph smiled back at us both and told us to remember to play nice and she turned around to go back to the bench. As soon as she turned around I stuck my tongue out at the girl again. She was at the top of the slide. "I'm gonna tell your mommy!" She said to me when she came down.

"Fine. You started it. I'll tell your mommy you pushed my baby brother first."

"You can't tell my mommy. I don't have a mommy!" She yelled back at me, and ran to the swing set.

X

I heard the children getting louder in the play area, and looked up from the notes I was taking. I stared, phone call forgotten, at the scene in front of me. There were two little boys and my girl, and a woman talking to them, her back to me. And the familiar tug in my heart told me that I was looking at Stephanie. Stephanie was here in the park with her children. Babe.

She was still as beautiful as the day I left her. Her hair was a mass of auburn curls; her ass, oh, it was still as alluring, distracting. The feelings I had had for her, every one, came crashing upon me. All the years of dreaming; her face, her smell the only thing to see me through the variety of hells I found myself living in, they all came back. She was talking to her little boys. She looked content as she moved, never looking up, not knowing I was there, not looking for me. I watched her as she walked back over to a stroller, where I guess her newest baby lay sleeping. Busy guy, I thought. My heart broke, and it sang at once. She was happy.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

And that's that, folks. Well that's it for **_My Girl_**… hope you've enjoyed….

Lean Mean Thirteen comes out soon, and so I will be taking a break before I start my next song, **_GOOD LOVIN'_**


	6. good Lovin'

GOOD LOVIN'The Young Rascals I was feelin' . . . so bad,I asked my family doctor just what I had,I said, "Doctor, . . . Mr. M.D., . . . Now can you tell me, tell me, tell me,What's ailin' me?" He said, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,Yes, indeed, all you really need . . .Is good lovin'Gimme that good, good lovin . . .All I need is lovin' . . .Good lovin', baby. Baby please, squeeze me tight . . . Now don't you want your baby to feel alright? I said Baby . . . (Baby) . . . now it's for sure . . I got the fever, Baby, Baby, but you've got the cure I said, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,Yes, indeed, all I really need . . .Is good lovin' Gimme that good, good lovin . . .All I need is lovin' . . .Good lovin', baby. 

I had thought things would be different. Julie and I would learn to live together; I would do my thing, she hers, Ella keeping track of her coming and going. After all, that's why I hired her, because I didn't want to be a single father to begin with. Well, I didn't know how, at the minimum. She was a cute kid, and sometimes entertained me with her silly stories and games. But I had no expectations that latent parenting genes would suddenly appear and I would grow to love the experience, either.

It seems that somewhere along the line, I lost control of the situation. Damn good thing I ran my professional life better than my personal one. Like tonight. What the hell just happened, I pondered, running the evenings experience through my head. Marina came on both barrels about my intentions toward Julie, about my obvious skill deficits in the parenting arena, and in general about the lack of human tendencies I exhibited at times. Fuck. She wants me to find a woman, be involved? Fine! I swung my car into the parking lot of the strip club and parked. I would go involve myself with a woman, ok? I hadn't been laid in too long anyway.

It had all started innocently enough at dinner. Craig came with his girlfriend. They were cloying and lovey dovey. Julie asked Julissa if she was Craig's wife. Kids. They both turned a shade of bright red and Craig sputtered something and then they both looked at Marina and told her that they actually had come over tonight to share the good news. They were getting married. And they left right after dinner to go tell her parents and his dad.

Marina was far more emotional about it than I would have expected her to be. I called her on it, and she told me just wait. That when _my_ daughter grew up and made huge life decisions like marriage, I would understand her position.

"Or maybe you wont," she tossed at me. "You just don't have any clue Carlos, do you? Do you honestly think when you get your head out of your ass, and are finally ready to parent that child in there," she gestured toward the den, "that she is going to be sitting still five years old, patiently waiting for you to get a clue, and not already grown up with the knowledge you didn't give a shit??" Her voice was rising, getting way beyond pissed.

"You need to re-order your priorities. Julie needs to be your first priority. Not your fancy black cars, not you playing at investigator or whatever shit it is that you've been doing the last three months. Ron is not your responsibility. Julie is. Find a job that keeps you in the state, and will keep you alive long enough to see her grown. Find a woman to marry and give that girl a mother. You can't do this alone."

I got ready to loudly refute that, but she had other ideas. She got into my face and growled through clenched teeth. "Don't deny it Carlos. You are pissed you have this responsibility? Well tough. I taught you better. I taught you to take care. You are the one who made that child, through your own choice because you didn't take care. She is not to blame and you shouldn't be ruining her childhood as a punishment for her being born, or punishing her because her mother died and left her to you. Grow the fuck up Carlos."

And then I threw my beer bottle at the wall. Julie came running when she heard the glass shatter, and hovered in the doorway whimpering, tears in her eyes, until Marina took her away. She brought her upstairs to the bedroom she kept ready for her and tucked her into bed.

I had swept up the mess by the time she came back into the den. I was sitting in the dark on the ottoman by the fireplace, my head in my hands. I was utterly confused. I hadn't lost my temper, really lost it like that, in a very long time. Julie, Rina, my life, it was just enough to drive me out of my mind sometimes.

Rina's fingers felt good on my shoulders. She didn't turn the light on, but sat down on the ottoman behind me and began to knead my shoulder muscles. I was incredibly tense. "Hijo, I love you and that little girl too much to let you mess this up. I know you didn't expect your life to go this way. I'm sorry about that. But you need to live the life you have been given." Her voice was quiet, soothing.

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for," I said with sincerity. "I just am-- I don't know. I have no reference point, you know? What more do I do with her, for her? I bought this huge house with a playroom and yard, we have Ella; I have her in a good school. She goes to gymnastics and Brownies and dancing and soccer. What am I supposed to be doing that I'm not?" I ran my hands through my hair, and looked over at Marina--my sister, my mother, my friend.

"You are supposed to be parenting her. Be her _father,_ Carlos. She doesn't have that respect for you as a father figure. She sees you on par with Craig and Jason. She thinks of you as some special uncle or something. Someone who she doesn't have to please or obey. Someone she enjoys being around, yes. Someone she loves, definitely. But she doesn't regard you as her father."

"You aren't helping by abdicating all day to day responsibilities to Ella. You are doing yourself and Julie a disservice. I think you could be a wonderful father. A true role model for her. I remember how much you idolized Papi. You thought the sun and the moon rose at his command."

"But you don't even ask her to respect you enough to call you Daddy. If you are _Carlos_, or _Ranger_, then you will get only the respect that _Ranger_ gets. But if you are Daddy? _Daddy_, Carlos. You are that child's Daddy."

"And that little girl needs a mother. You need a woman in your life Carlos." I was ready to stop her right there. I was not getting into a conversation about women with her! But she barreled on, determined I hear her out. "Don't roll your eyes at me. You are a good looking man, smart; and finding his way. You are having success at your career," she shook her head at that; I know she's not thrilled with how I earn a buck.

"Although what kind of career I am afraid to ask--you keep getting yourself arrested! I am not about to spend the rest of my life bailing you out. I have bailed your ass out of jail too many times to count over the years. You don't live under my roof anymore. I got you to join the military. I don't know what else to do with you Carlos, I really don't. If you don't care about yourself, your reputation, then please think of Julie. You are going to lose custody if you don't get your act together! Find someone who can ground you."

"You need to find someone to share this journey. Your life can't be just work, and it can't be just Julie. Just as you balance your diet Carlos, and treat your body as a temple with food, you need to worship it, and provide it with its other needs of love and acceptance. Success is hollow if you have no one to share it with."

Everything she said was true. But fall in love? I had done that already. I was hopelessly in love with someone I couldn't have. Someone who didn't even know I was still around. Lose Julie? No. that couldn't happen.

"I have told you time and again, Rina. I am working undercover. None of the charges stick. My lawyer or the ATF come in, they make everything go away. I am just establishing a street reputation. It is necessary in order for me to get the trust of these gangs."

"And CPS will not give a rat's ass about that Carlos. You are a single parent with custody of a minor child who they will say is in an unstable and unsafe environment. They will take her first and ask questions later."

"You wouldn't allow it, would you? Would you take her?"

She sighed then. "And if I tell you I would take her? You won't worry over this conversation one minute after you walk out of the room."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He sighed. Audibly. That told me a lot about how confused he really was. He doesn't usually let emotion run his life. "I need this cover, Rina. What I am doing now, what I am involved in--this is it. This is me! I am good at this. I hadn't thought of what to do _after_, you know? I never felt I had the luxury of worrying about after."

"I've found my niche. I hunt. I track. I am good at it. It's what I did as a Ranger. I didn't know I could continue." He looked up and me and saw I was smiling, trying to hold in a laugh.

"What?" He asked. He stood up and went toward the kitchen to grab a few more beers. I watched him walk. His limp was noticeable tonight because he was tired, but I was impressed by how hard he had worked to get back to prime fitness. He was driven, that's for sure. His physical therapist at the hospital always went on about his determination.

Of course, I think it was a bit to do with the fact she wanted to go out with him, and wanted me to say something to him since she hadn't been able to convince him to ask her out despite all of her blatant attempts at seduction. Child, I thought to myself. Not at all prepared for Carlos!

"You are enthusiastic like you were as a boy. It makes me happy to see you engaged with the world. I am proud of what you are attempting to do. But your life can't be just work. No matter how good it is or how good you are at it. You have another responsibility, a far greater one."

"What, are you changing up specialties? Becoming a shrink instead of a brain surgeon?" he finally replied; beer in hand, after taking a swig.

"You asked my advice Carlos. There it is. Tell me what it is you are really afraid of, and I will tell you that you can conquer your fear. But if you don't own up to it? Well, I can't help you there." I looked at him and couldn't help but smile. He had always been too handsome for his own good.

Strong, dark, sexy; I knew what the ladies were always saying about him. But sometimes you had to wonder, all the other crap he carries around with him, does it make him less attractive? He's my brother, I don't get those kinds of vibes from him, but I certainly know how distracting being around him can be. There is an aura about him. Maybe women are scared of him; maybe they can't get to know him because of the walls he builds.

"Carlos. When is the last time you went out on a date? Just you and a woman, dinner and dancing; a movie, something quiet?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I've been busy."

"When?"

"A movie? Dinner? Shit, I don't know; I was probably in high school!"

"Carlos."

"I don't know."

"Who is the last person you kissed?"

"You, about 10 minutes ago."

"Carlos."

He got up and paced. He was bothered by something; something I couldn't get my finger on…. He finally stopped and looked at me. There was an infinite sadness in his eyes as I looked at him. He turned around again and walked to the sliding glass doors and looked out onto the snow covered deck. He didn't turn and I had to strain my ears to hear him speak.

"I met her."

"What? Who?"

He turned then, and stood in front of me. "You know how Mami always said?"

"I met her…my other half."

Holy shit. I only half believed Mami. She loved to tell her tale, and it was definitely a romantic story, but real? "_And_?" Why is he making this like pulling teeth?

"She's married. Three kids."

I sat in the Turbo another 10 minutes, the conversation from earlier going round and round in my head. For one thing, Marina needs to stay out of my business. Find a woman, be a better father, find a job. For another, she needs to take her freaking Christmas tree down. Driving through the dark streets of Trenton, no more Christmas lights. No trees in windows. Except at the Dennison residence. Some ideas of Mami's she just won't change. And Mami said the tree stayed up till the Epiphany, so Marina's dry, pathetic tree needed to suffer through another few nights before it was mercifully dragged to the curb.

Trying to explain about Stephanie? That had been hard. Despite her failed marriage, Marina was a closet romantic. She always put on the no-nonsense, pragmatic doctor face, but she really was all about family and heritage, hearts and flowers.

"When did you meet her, where? Tell me!! It was like Mami and Papi? Really?"

Fuck. Why had I said anything? I had gone almost 5 years without talking about it. Talking about her, about us. Well, since that one drunken night with Tank. Steph and I lived on together in my dreams. Just at night, in my unconsciousness.

I couldn't allow those memories out into the light of day. It hurt too much. I had managed to categorize her, box my feelings up and pack them away except during the endless, sleepless nights. Then she came to me, and I loved her thoroughly. I worshipped her skin, her lips, her scent. I could feel her hair slipping through my fingers, the warmth of her breath as if she were actually in my embrace.

God, the nights were long.

Enough. I am going inside. I looked at my watch. Shit, I was still early. But it was barely 12 degrees outside, and I had no reason to sit here in the cold dark night. Tank said he and Lester were going to be traveling this way and we had made arrangements to meet at The Golden Lasso at 11. I was really looking forward to seeing them. I had only just recently come to realize how much I had relied on the guys for friendship, for support.

The past six months of recuperation and upheaval hadn't left me capable of maintaining a relationship with men I had grown so close to that I considered them brothers. I had failed them by my lack of communication, by the attitude I had projected. Leave me alone; let me wallow in the misery that my life isn't what I want it to be. I wanted to change that. I needed their companionship.

The small round table was overrun by empty beer bottles. Lester sat off to the side in a dark corner, the girl from the last act sitting on his lap, her sequined Wonder Woman costume reflecting and sparkling as the strobe lights pulsed. Tank shook his head at the sight, took another pull from his beer and slapped the bottle down onto the table. "So, spill Ranger. Wha's really goin' down?"

I hadn't had a chance to run this by them yet. The idea came to me, fully formed the other night, after Tank called to wish me a Happy New Year. I never thought of doing things like that.

Julie had answered the phone. It was her birthday, and she was apparently expecting all sorts of calls wishing her a happy day. She picked up the phone and announced who she was, just as Ella had taught her. She then started giggling, so I figured it was a friend. Five minutes later, she handed me the phone. It was Tank.

We spoke for a moment, and Julie ran upstairs. I tried to find out what Tank could have possibly been discussing with Julie but he wouldn't tell me. He did tell me he was coming north for a bit. He had said to me, "I's itching to get out of Georgia, daddy be after me to tend crops all week and take up preaching on Sundays."

I couldn't argue the desire for escape from that fate, and it would be nice to have a friend around. A true one, not one of the jerks in the street gang I had to pretend to be tight with as part of this undercover mission. Julie's footsteps pounded down the stairs and she skid to a stop in front of me, breathless.

"Ranger," she tugged on my arm. "Is that still him?" Stop, I motioned, but she kept fussing. "What?" I mouthed, my hand over the phone. "Is that still Mr. Tank?" she asked, bouncing up and down in place.

I nodded, and then she was after me to have the phone back. "Tank, man, can you hold on? Julie seems to feel the need to interrupt us," I glared at her. I gave her the phone and she giggled breathlessly into the phone.

"I found it Mr. Tank," she said, holding a bottle of nail polish. "It's a bright pink color." What the hell? "Ranger, what is this color called," she then asked, handing me the bottle. "Raspberry Rhapsody" I read the label, totally confused.

She repeated it to him and then laughed again and said yes and goodbye and handed me the phone.

"What the fuck Tank?" I asked; shaking my head as Julie tore back through the halls. That kid's energy is boundless.

He laughed then. "We got ourselves a manicure appointment, man, when I get to Jersey. I am gonna teach you how to do that little girl's fingers up pretty." My mind left that bizarre scene from the strangest New Years Eve I could recall ever spending; those off in the middle of nowhere included, and came back to the present.

"I've gone into a contract with the ATF," I began, and Wonder Woman was unceremoniously dumped from Lester's lap as he strode over to the table. "You're kidding man," he said. "How'd you land that shit!"

"Sit down, and I'll tell you," I laughed at him. I definitely had missed the guys. Tank had gotten out two months after I was cut loose. Lester was on leave, prior to completing his last six month tour before deciding whether to re-up or not. I hoped they both would agree to become partners in this venture I had decided to get involved in.

x

I tossed my duffel over my good shoulder and began the journey through the airport, scrubbing my face with my hand, trying to come awake, trying to organize all the random thoughts in my head. I was more frustrated and bewildered than I had been when I left for Miami. Ron was in deeper than I had thought, far deeper than any of my informants had gathered. I hadn't slept in about 5 days. I had gotten by on cat naps; reminiscent of my old army days off in the deserts of god knows where, and I was looking forward to an uninterrupted nights sleep.

It was early spring back here in New Jersey. I regretted leaving the warm Miami sun for the promise of a spring that was being beaten down by a late winter storm system. I was lost in thought, moving on autopilot but totally aware nonetheless. I spotted Julie the moment she broke free of Marina's grasp. "Ranger!!!!" she screeched, running wildly through the crowds of people waiting for disembarking passengers, her rabbit flopping in the breeze behind her. I really didn't need this; why did Marina have to meet me here with her? I pasted a smile onto my face as Julie came barreling through the baggage claim area.

I surveyed the area for Tank. Nowhere to be seen. I guess Marina had gotten to him too, in her far-reaching effort to turn me into Dad of the Year. Next thing I know, he'll be arranging double dates for us, since she hasn't been able to pull off the matchmaking yet to her satisfaction. I shuddered inwardly, and nodded acknowledgement to elderly couple who were smiling sweetly at my daughter's enthusiastic greeting.

I swooped her up as she charged me and swung her around, her face bright and smiling. My face unexpectedly broke into a grin, and I felt laughter bubbling from deep inside me. I didn't deserve this kind of love I thought, pulling her closer to me, loving the feeling of her soft body wrapped around me, all arms and legs; knees and elbows encircling my neck, my waist, the smell of baby shampoo tickling my nose.

"Princess," I breathed into her ear, my eyes closed, just reveling in her acceptance. She squeezed me just a little too tightly around the shoulder and I winced, but I blanked my face before she noticed.

We had made our way to where Marina was waiting by then and I knew she had seen me grimace. Shit. She offered her cheek to me and I obliged her with a kiss. "You're hurt," she hissed. I shrugged it off. I wasn't getting into it in front of Julie.

"I have no other bags," I said, and turned to leave for the parking lot.

The woman I had been sitting next to on the plane glared at Rina and Julie as we walked through the people hovering around baggage claim. Rina noticed the woman's venomous eye and looked up at me and smiled. "Making friends again I see, huh Carlos?"

"Hmmph," I snorted.

"She's pretty. What could you possibly have done to piss her off on a flight to New Jersey?"

"Declined her offer to join the mile high club."

Marina howled with laughter, and I put my arm around her and pulled her close. "She's probably trying to figure out why I would want _you_ when I could have her," I whispered evilly and kissed the top of her head. That got the swat I figured it would get, and I turned my attention back to Julie, who was tugging on my face, trying to get me to notice her. I kissed her on the nose and she giggled.

x

"She's in bed and already asleep. Off with the shirt Carlos."

I glared at her. "It's nothing," I said, looking down at my laptop.

"Carlos. I am not leaving this house until you take off your shirt."

"It's just a flesh wound," I responded, but I stood up and pulled off my t-shirt. Which of course hurt like fucking hell. I sat on the arm of the couch and let Marina play doctor. She mumbled under her breath something about me and a death wish, and was not as gentle as she could have been while examining the wound. "What happened?" She finally asked, as she handed me back my shirt. I promptly tossed it onto the couch. I wasn't up for pulling at the stitches again as I dressed.

"Nothing."

"Carlos, people don't get shot for nothing. Did you find Ron?'

"No. No he's gone to ground, or he's dead. I'm leaning toward dead."

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I woke up crying because an orange monster with big green teeth was trying to eat Mrs. Wabbit. I got out of my bed and went to Ranger's room to get into his bed. It was safe there. The monsters wouldn't follow. They would be scared of him, I knew that. They never followed.

I had Mrs. Wabbit tucked close to me and opened his door. His room was very dark. The moon was like a tiny night light in the window so I could find his bed. I started to climb up, because he always let me sleep in his bed when I had nightmares. He was talking in his sleep. He did that a lot. I pushed Mrs. Wabbit under the covers and pulled them up over me too, and he rolled over in the bed and called me Babe.

"I'm not Babe, Ranger," I giggled quietly; "I'm Julie."

"Babe," he whispered again, and pulled me into his arms.

"Julie." I said as I put my hands on his cheek and kissed him and laughed again.

"Julie," he mumbled. In a minute he woke up all the way. "What's the matter, Princess? Nightmares?" He asked as he rubbed my arms. I nodded and snuggled in closer to him.

He told me it all was just a dream. I don't know about that. I think being in his bed was safer. I liked him holding me. I had missed him when he went away to Florida.

"I saw your Grandma while I was in Florida," Ranger said to me, pulling the blankets up over us all. I sat back up. "You did? I wanna see her too, Ranger. Was Xavier there? Was he? I miss him. Did my Daddy come back yet?"

"Oh, Princess," he whispered, letting me crawl back into his arms.

"I want my Daddy, I want my brother. I want my Mommy back," I whispered. I started to cry. I missed them.

Ranger scooted up in the bed, with me still in his arms. He didn't turn on the light. "Princess." He rubbed my head, and used his fingers to wipe away my tears. "I'm your daddy."

I opened my eyes and looked at him. "I know you are, Ranger." I saw a bandage under his t-shirt. "What happened to you?" I touched his shoulder.

"Nothing, baby."

"Then why do you have a bandage? It's a big one. You aren't sick again, are you?" I hoped not. I didn't want to have to go to the hospital all the time to see him again.

"No, baby. Just a little hurt."

"How? By a bad man?"

"Yeah. A bad man. But I'm ok."

"Your job is to catch the bad men, right? That's what Mr. Tank told me."

"Yeah, something like that princess."

"Can I go to Florida next time? I wanna see my grandma and Xavier."

"I will take you some time." He kissed my cheek. "Your grandma sent that to you."

My eyes got all full of tears. "Will my Daddy ever come back?"

Ranger didn't answer me. I looked up at him, and his face was sad. "I don't think so."

"So now you are my only Daddy?"

"Yeah." Ranger kissed the top of my head. "Is that ok?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I loved Ranger, I did. Monsters and bad men were supposed to be scared of him. But sometimes he was scary even to me. But I liked being all wrapped up in his arms. "I love you, Ranger," I told him and turned all the way around so I could put my arms around his neck.

"I love you, too, princess." He gave me a squeeze but only with the arm that wasn't hurt. He kissed my nose. "And you know what? I think I would really like it if you would call me Daddy." He laid me back down in the bed, and pulled the blanket up again. He handed me Mrs. Wabbit, and he lay down and closed his eyes.

I closed my eyes, and I felt his fingers on my cheek. "Sweet dreams, Princess. Goodnight," he said very softly.

"Goodnight," I opened my eyes and looked at him. "Daddy."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Stephanie, phone!" Anthony waved me over. Hmmm, that's weird; he doesn't usually allow personal phone calls. I nodded that I heard him and finished taking the lunch order, then high-tailed it to the bar. "Take it in the office," Anthony motioned to the door at the end of the bar, and I looked at him with some confusion. "Go on," he said, but he followed me to the door. I wasn't liking this a bit.

I closed the door behind me with a bizarre sense of dread. This wasn't going to be a good call. My hands shook as I reached for the receiver. I was afraid to speak, but my imagination was probably worse than reality, so I finally picked it up and said hello.

"Pumpkin?"

"Dad? Ohmygod, what happened?"

I knew it was a bad call. I knew it. "Daddy? What's wrong?"

"It'll be ok, Pumpkin, I'm sure. It's Edna. Your grandmother, well, she fell."

"Where are you?" My heart was racing. My hands were shaking. "I'll be right there."

"We're at St. Francis. Your grandmother is being examined right now. Take your time, ok? She was giving the paramedics a hard time when they got here, I am sure she's going to be fine. Your mother wanted me to call you."

I sat down hard on Anthony's swivel desk chair. I took a few deep breaths before getting ready to go back out there. One more strike, I thought sullenly. I had to ask to leave in the middle of the lunch rush. I called Joe. He was my ride today because I couldn't get the Lexus started.

"Hey, cupcake," he answered his cell. He must be out on the street.

"Joe?"

"What's wrong? Where are you?"

"Joe, it's Grandma Mazur. She's in the hospital. She fell."

"Aw, shit. Where are you now?"

"I'm still at work. Daddy just called."

"I can come get you in about 20 minutes, 30 tops, ok?"

"Thanks."

I hung up and wiped my eyes. It was probably all a precaution, I thought. Nothing could keep her down for long. I took a few deep breaths, and opened the office door. Anthony was a few feet away, wiping the counter down when I came out.

"Everything ok?"

"I'm gonna have to leave, Anthony. Family emergency."

"What?"

Oh, no, don't you dare go there Anthony, I thought. I was getting ready to go all rhino, when he asked me again. "What happened Stephanie? Is everyone ok?"

Oh damn! I almost told my boss off for _caring_. I shook my head no, then yes, and then I just wove my fingers together behind my neck and tugged. I apparently needed to de-stress some.

"Joe's gonna collect me in a bit to take me to the hospital. Grandma Mazur fell." I looked him in the eye, finding all my courage, and told him I would get the drink orders going for my tables, and I turned away before he saw my armor crack.

It turned out Joe couldn't get to me for almost an hour. Everyone was very kind to me, and tried to keep me distracted, but I was creating scenario after scenario, each more horrifying than the next. I was a basket case by the time he got me into his car.

"Cupcake." Joe had my hand in his and he tugged me closer to him on the elevator. I let myself melt into his embrace; I didn't like being strong. I wanted someone to baby me. I was scared.

"It'll be ok," he murmured into my hair, and his hands rubbed up and down my arms. I race walked to the room they had told us she had been moved to, and as I got there, I saw Val, Mom and Dad all standing about, talking with a doctor at the foot of Grandma's bed.

"Mom." I walked in, Joe behind me.

"Stephanie. Where have you been?"

"My car's not running. Is she ok?" I asked, walking over to the bed. Grandma was always larger than life in my mind, but here, lying on the hospital bed, eyes closed, she looked tiny; fragile and weak.

I heard the doctor talking to my mother. "Mrs. Plum, if you have any further questions, don't hesitate to call me. Please, go take a few minutes for yourselves; the cafeteria is on the 3rd floor. Your mother will not awaken from the sedative for a while yet. But from what I could see on the MRI, she is going to be fine. Her earlier combativeness was only a result of the fall. She hit her head pretty squarely on something."

I heard Dad mumble something about her being a pain in the ass all the time, and saw Mom's elbow take him out.

"I will be checking back with her hourly. She will have quite the headache from the concussion. Some bruising along her body from the stair case. But she is lucky to have only broken her ankle."

I glanced then and saw that her ankle was indeed in a cast. But just her ankle. Nothing like a hip or a head injury. Concussion. Well, ok, she does have a head injury. But the doctor seems to think its ok. My mind was working overtime trying to process all that I heard the doctor tell them, since I walked in late and picked up just the tail end. I knew I was going to get an earful from Mom about that, too. I saw it in her eyes when she greeted me.

I watched in awe as this woman handled my mother. And handled was exactly the proper term for it. She had maneuvered them all away from the bed and out the door. Her smile, it was compelling. Oh my god, she was using it to control my mother! Mom and Dad were at the doorway, saying goodbye to Val. She had to get to the school by three for the girls. Joe was out there with them, and he caught my eye, letting me know he'd run interference. His expression said stay with her if you like. I smiled my thanks.

I walked up to Grandma's bed and took her hand. All my life, Grandma Mazur was like having my own personal cheerleader. I sat in the chair by the bed, watching the machines, holding her hand, talking quietly, telling her about all the times I remembered as a child.

I was petrified that somehow, this doctor had missed something; that she wasn't going to wake up. I don't think I could handle that. I didn't notice how long I'd been there but the doctor was back, checking on the machines and on grandma.

"You are Stephanie?"

"Yes. Do I know you?"

"No." She did her doctor thing, and spent a few minutes writing on her chart. She then looked up at me. "Your grandmother is a piece of work. She had to be sedated before going for the MRI because she wouldn't stop grabbing at the male attendants rears."

I rolled my eyes. "Is that all she tried to grab?"

The doctor laughed. I glanced at her nametag. Dennison. Why do I know that name? And she looks familiar. I've seen her somewhere.

"She's going to be fine. She'll wake up grumpy, I'd say, but not for a while." She tilted her head toward the door, and I stood and followed. I wasn't even planning on leaving yet, but I followed her right out of the room.

She looked me over, and nodded her head toward the elevator. "Your family went down to the 3rd floor."

"Yes. Thanks," I said, and turned to the elevator bank.

Xxxxxx

Plum. Stephanie Plum. I smiled as I watched Stephanie Plum get onto the elevator. Yes. It was her. I thought back to the description of this Stephanie who stole Carlos heart. 'Oh, Rina, her eyes, they are like splashes of blue sky; her skin, its porcelain and cream and her hair, its alive!' I couldn't believe I was listening to my 'baby brother turned big bad army man,' simpering like a love struck fool. I was sure it was her.

Oh, could it really be? Mami's story had always been a fanciful flight of the imagination for me. I was floored by the fact that Carlos would have been taken by it, and then the idea he actually experienced it? That little white girl was the other half of his soul?

I needed to call him and tell him how beautiful she really was. And sadly, her husband was a stud. Too bad. Stop, Marina! Listen to you, hoping maybe she was married to a toad, so Carlos could play the happy home wrecker!

I was almost finished my rounds and after checking on Mrs. Mazur once more, I planned on calling Carlos. I began to fuss with a tube on her arm when she opened her eyes. "Hello there, and who might you be?"

"I'm your doctor, Ma'am."

"Doctor? You're too pretty to be a doctor. What kind are you?"

"Thanks, and I am a neurologist. You took a bad fall earlier, do you recall?"

"No, no I don't. I wonder why I would have done that."

"Do you know what today is?"

"It's Tuesday."

"That's right. Do you recall having plans for today?"

"Oh, no! Yes, I do, I was to meet Myra Fillipi at the home for a viewing. Maxine Bismark was laid out you know. And her husband, that Thomas, he is a looker, you know. And young! Only 72. He's gonna be snapped up in no time you know."

I nodded, thinking that I was unsure of where her mental state was based on this conversation. I figured I would let it go a bit longer and see if it began to make any sense.

"Anyway, I heard from Rita Hart that a bunch of the old biddies from the assisted living were planning on showing up all dolled up to make a play for Thomas. You have to understand, he's Burg, he doesn't need to been dragged off to Lakewood by some outsider."

"I had gotten all spiffed up. I had on a new turquoise and black number, and the cutest black patent leather shoes that went so well with it. Now they were not all that respectable, they had a two and half inch heel; but I hoped to sneak out of the house before _Ellen_ noticed. You have to do what you have to do these days to get a man. Oh, but you are young and beautiful, you wouldn't understand. But I don't remember anything much after deciding to sneak out."

Well, it seems she's a handful, but her mental state seems to be ok. I began to note on her chart, when she tugged at my sleeve. "Oh, but yes, there were some hot studly men wearing white, they had nice packages. I do remember that! I don't know where they went, but wasn't that something to see!"

I shook my head and nodded. I bet it was, I agreed, and asked how her head felt.

"Oh, it's not good at all. I think I must have smacked it good on something, it hurts like the dickens."

Then she started to pull away. She looked to the door. "Stephanie! Oh, look doctor; this is my granddaughter, Stephanie. Isn't she the one? Are those flowers for me?"

"How are you feeling Grandma?" Stephanie smiled, and leaned over to kiss her grandmother.

"Don't you think she is a good girl? Thank you dear, they are beautiful. I suppose I'm ok, the doctor was just checking me over. I wouldn't have minded if they had gotten me a buff male doctor, you know, but I bet your mother made sure that didn't happen," I heard her say to Stephanie, in a conniving whisper.

I just rolled my eyes, pretended I didn't hear and continued my exam. I watched Stephanie as she interacted with her grandmother. She seemed to be a very genuine kind of person. No airs. Nothing false about her. I would really love to chat with her, but to what end? To find out what kind of person had stolen my brother's heart? She was his dream, and she was unavailable, and he knew it. And he seemed to be using her memory as a barrier to any type of real relationship with a woman.

It was beyond frustrating. I wanted him to find someone to make him whole. That niece of mine, she deserved a family. She had so many changes in the past year. And Carlos finally seemed to have a handle on the parenting thing.

I smiled to myself when I recalled the last conversation we had had about Julie and him. Julie had been out on my deck and she had done something that had upset Carlos. She knew it too. I was watching from the kitchen window. Her face fell as he spoke to her, and she nodded her head slowly. His expression was severe. He never raised his voice, he just spoke to her quietly, and from what I gathered she understood he was disappointed. She nodded again, and then reached out to hug him. His arms came around her, and I watched as he held her. Then he smacked her on the rear, and she looked up, giggled, and ran off.

After she was down the stairs, I stepped out onto the deck with a tray of drinks. I just smiled at him. We watched Julie for a few minutes quietly. He looked over at me after a time and spoke.

"How'd you learn all this, Rina? How'd you know?"

I shrugged my shoulder slightly and smiled. I raised my eyebrow and looked at him pointedly. "Carlos. The three of you? You are kidding right?"

He laughed at that, and looked slightly embarrassed. "Well yeah, but--"

"No buts, Carlos. You had at your command an entire company of men, didn't you? They did what you told them, when you told them, without question?" He nodded, and I continued. "Why would you think you couldn't ask of a six year old girl the same respect and good behavior you asked of your men? You just do the same thing with Julie, hijo. It's been a lot calmer these last months hasn't it?"

"Yes."

"I bet you could identify when the wind changed direction, too. She calls you Daddy now. You took control of your household and stopped allowing her to run the show, wouldn't you agree?"

His head tilted slightly in acknowledgement.

"No one said it was easy Carlos. But you are getting better at it every day. And she loves you more than you have any idea."

I smiled again, as I thought of Julie. That little girl was such a joy.

"What are you smiling about doctor? I bet you have some nice package all tied up waiting for you in bed don't you?"

"Grandma!"

Not touching that one! "I'm sorry, my mind wandered a moment. You seem to be doing well, Mrs. Mazur, but you have to stay at least overnight, ok? I will be checking on you early tomorrow; you will have someone come in and awaken you every hour. I'm sorry about that, but we need to. Get what rest you can, ok?" I picked up her hand and gave it a gentle pat.

"Good night."

I wanted to have Stephanie follow me out, but I couldn't just ask her. I didn't have to. She gave her grandmother a kiss goodbye and followed quickly behind me.

"Doctor? Is she really going to be ok?"

"Yes, I think she'll be fine. Pretty resilient for someone her age."

I pushed the elevator button and turned to look at her again.

"I'm sure that you and your family had more of a scare today than she did. Down?" I asked as we got on.

She nodded. She stood, looking at me, shaking her head.

"What is it?" I finally asked.

"I feel like I know you from somewhere. As soon as I met you earlier this afternoon; I haven't been able to shake it, or place you." I smiled at her as we both got off on 2. She was walking in the same direction I was.

"What is your full name? Your first name?" she blurted.

"Marina. Marina Dennison."

She came to a sudden stop, and grasped her purse to her chest. "Marina," she repeated. I guided her to a bank of seats along the wall. "Sit Stephanie."

"You're…"

"My brother Carlos looks a lot like me." I smiled gently at her.

"Carlos. Yes. You were so beautiful that night, dancing; I thought the two of you were such a perfectly matched couple." Her voice had gone from high and shaky to a soft melancholy whisper. "Carlos. I-- I never heard from you." Her eyes grew wide, and then I could see the fear in them.

I smiled at her, and took her hand in mine. I wanted to convey his safety; I wanted to confess all of his feelings, his yearnings. But I couldn't. "I never heard from you," I quietly replied.

Then her cell phone rang, and it was over. "Yes, Joe, I'm on my way to the parking lot right now. Ok. Bye." There was nothing more I could say to her, I thought; as I listened to her speak with her husband.

She looked at me as she closed the phone, stunned, speechless. I took her hand again. "He's out of the service. He lives nearby." Alone; with his daughter. He pines for you. He won't move on. He lives in darkness and loneliness and solitude, I wanted to add. But that would be cruel. She had her own life.

By now she was standing, unsure of her next move. I spoke first. "I will see you tomorrow?"

Her face drew a blank. "Your grandmother?"

She actually shook her head to clear it. I smiled.

She looked at me and said, "Right. Yes. Goodbye. Thank you. For everything."

Xxxxx

I pulled Steph closer to me and settled back into bed. She hadn't been able to get to sleep; it was almost 2 am, and I had found her sitting on the couch staring at the TV screen. She hadn't wanted to be alone so she stayed over my place. I think seeing her grandmother like that today really did a number on her.

"Cupcake, it's ok." I pressed myself up against her; damn, she turned me on any time of the day or night. She twisted in my arms and was facing me. "I know. I just am, I dunno." She put her head into my shoulder. She wasn't responding to my pressure, to the rubbing of my hands. I guess she was too distracted for sex. Shit.

I pulled her into my embrace and just spoke to her. I decided to tell her about some stuff from work. It doesn't sound so astonishing except that as a cop, there are so many bad things that happen; so many things I can't discuss; so many things I don't want to bring home. But you know what? Tonight, maybe she needed that distraction.

"Want me to tell you about the office?" I laughed. The office. My desk in a loud room full of loud men with cages of humanity on either side. "Sure," she murmured. Good. Maybe I can lull her to sleep.

"Lately there's been a rash of small time gang crap. Some jerks wanting some territory that belongs to other jerks. Should just let them all just shoot it out, and they'd be over and done with. But there's this one guy, this Hispanic small timer, he thinks he's a bad ass."

"Walks around with the street name of Ranger. Ranger? What the hell? Anyway, cupcake, this guy, he is like a thorn in my side. He's probably my number one arrest. Shit, he seems to always be where it's going down. The past six months I've arrested this jerk over and over for petty shit. That's what he is, a petty shit. If there's trouble up on Stark Street, we just assume lately that Ranger and his black sports car will be nearby."

"Anyway today was no different. Just pisses me off though. He knows someone, he has to. Hauled him in, carrying concealed. Again. You'd think he'd learn. But you know what? I can't seem to get him convicted. He's like a bad penny. Keeps turning up. He never fights me. Never tells me off. Never tries to resist. Just gets in the back of the blue and white and keeps his mouth shut. Face is blank. Nothing in his eyes. It feels like he's got a screw loose. He's bad news, I feel it deep down."

I stopped and looked down at Steph. I swiped a curl off her forehead. "Go on," she mumbled, eyes closed, her face relaxed. I was boring her to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I was replaying the fight again. Why the hell are we together anyway, I wondered, not for the hundredth time? Everything with Joe is a fight lately, I thought glumly. The Lexus sputtered at the light, as it had been doing for the past three days. I finally had enough time and money to head over to the garage that Joe suggested. The car seemed to hate hot summer driving. And it turns out Lexus's are expensive to fix. Figures. Should have asked for child support or something when I got custody of the car.

I laughed at myself. Haven't lost your sense of humor, Plum; that's a good thing. About the only thing you haven't lost, I thought next, and a dark gloom descended over my head. I was teetering on the edge; I knew it.

Anthony Pino was getting a little too short tempered with my 'issues' lately. I had a feeling my days at work were numbered. I wanted to make sure we all stayed happy and I would still feel comfortable eating there, so I had been giving serious thought to finding a new job. A new job would be easy. Finding a new pizza place was not something I really wanted to consider.

Finding a new boyfriend was definitely worth consideration however! Damn Joe and his Italian temper. We couldn't keep it together for more than a few weeks without a lot of yelling and carrying on. I was finding it hard to come up with many things to be thankful for lately. I was finding it hard to remain upbeat, and positive about the direction my life was headed.

I mean, ok, I had my health. And Grandma Mazur was recovering with no lasting ill effects. But beyond that? No world peace or anything as mundane as a happy heart for me. A satisfied heart, even.

The girls all thought I was a crazy fool for not thinking Joe hung the moon. For some reason I couldn't identify it just didn't feel like he was _the_ one. And I knew Dickie hadn't been the one. Maybe there was no _one_ for me, and my determination to find this elusive quantity was doing nothing for me but making me cranky, bitter and ungrateful. Shit. I mentally slapped myself. Stop watching Dr. Phil!

Then my mind went to Marina Dennison and our brief conversation about Carlos the other day. He was alive, he was here in Trenton? But I didn't get to talk any more to her, and besides what would I have said? I bet she didn't tell me a lot of things about him. I was sure he would be married and have a family by now; any woman would be stupid to turn him down. Shit. I turned him down. Stupid. Stupid! STUPID! I heard something in Marina's voice, a chiding, an accusation; when she reminded me that I had never called her to get in contact with him.

Enough; concentrate on driving. I had this irrational fear of driving over railroad tracks. I don't know where I developed said fear; maybe it was too many Bugs Bunny and Wile E. Coyote cartoons. But I groaned inside when I discovered the garage on Lafayette Avenue was on the other side of the tracks. I slowed down, put my foot on the brake as I was cresting the little rise before the tracks, and looked carefully in both directions. Railroad tracks give me the absolute shakes!!! I saw nothing as far as I could see in either direction, so I decided if I closed my eyes and gunned the gas, it would be alright. And as I took my foot off the brake and got the car half way to the other side, it stalled. Oh shit. Absolute fucking shit. I grabbed the gear, put it in reverse, and willed it back. It didn't move.

I yanked the door open, scrambled for my pocket book and tossed myself onto the ground; as if the car were about to explode. I looked like a jackass, but I told you, tracks freak me out. No other cars were coming, and thankfully no trains. My hands shook as I dialed 911 to tell them. They needed to get my car off the track; they needed to stop the trains; they needed to do something! I was shaking and hyperventilating. I kept far away from the car, but kept looking back and forth, waiting to see a train.

I called Joe next. I didn't know what else to do! I know we had fought; for all the yelling that took place this morning we may well have broken up this time, but I needed him to help me. I decided this part of town was dicey looking anyway. There was nothing here, no one to help me. I heard an engine and freaked, thinking it was a train, but it was just a car, coming in the opposite direction, the bass pounding, and the ground shaking. The guy drove over the tracks and away from me, and never even stopped! Shit.

Another car. This one was going in my direction. Maybe he'd stop; after all, I was technically blocking his path. The vehicle was black, some type of sports car. Tinted windows. Thankfully it stopped as I ran out into the street, waving the driver down. Something had to happen!! My car couldn't stay there forever!!!

I must have looked like a mad fool, but the door opened and the driver got out of the car. I watched him, long legs encased in black unfolding from the door, dark sunglasses, dark hair pulled into a ponytail. The sun made the diamond stud in his ear sparkle. I thought I saw a gun glint under his jacket, and I almost died. Shit, I thought, I flagged down a drug dealer or something. Double shit. Oh who cares, move my car!! He took a step toward me, and then froze as he looked at me. His eyes widened. "Babe."

"Ohmygod. Carlos. Carlos." I couldn't believe it. But I started panicking again. "My -- my car, it stalled…. I can't get it off the tracks!"

"Ok. Calm down, Babe," he touched my hand; gently, so softly I wasn't sure it happened and he turned to my car. He ran up to it, yanked open the back door first, then shut it. He pulled the front door open, played with the gears, and then got out. He walked around to the front of the car. He was going to push it? Just then I heard the train whistle. "Carlos!!" I screamed. "Carlos!!" He pushed and pushed and pushed; but it was stuck. He had gotten it over one rail, and was attempting to get it over the next, but they had been poorly maintained and were rutted. And now the train was coming.

I was pulling my hair, running toward him, looking at the train, screaming, "CARLOS!!!!!!" He finally stopped pushing and ran toward me, grabbing me while at the same time diving into the ditch. His body covered me, and I was unable to breathe when I heard the train brakes screeching and then the sound of metal against metal, as the front edge of the car was hit by the train and flung to the side.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

We lay in the ditch, me covering Stephanie's body, as the train destroyed her car. I took a few deep calming breaths, so thankful her kids weren't all strapped into the back, that she was ok; that I had the chance to touch her, to see her, to smell her sweet scent once again.

Rina called me the other night; told me she had met Steph, and since that time, my mind had been overwhelmed with thoughts of her. And now, she was lying under me, in a ditch. I sat up, and pulled Stephanie up into my embrace. "Are you ok, babe?" I spoke gently, but she was shaking, her heart was beating wildly. I rubbed her arms vigorously, trying to get a reaction, to snap her out of the place she had gone. I looked over to where her car was. It was upside down, on the other side of the ditch.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. My car, my car," she kept repeating, rocking back and forth in my arms. She was in shock. We both looked up again as we heard the sirens in the distance. "I called 911," she told me, over and over. It was an automatic response, a mantra that spilled from her lips as she rocked in my arms.

"Babe." I tugged her face away from the car, and tried to get her to focus on me.

"Dickie loved that car. Oh my god, when Dickie hears about his car…."

"Babe. It's only a car. It's replaceable."

"Dickie loved that car."

"Babe. No one was hurt. No one was trapped in the car, no one got hurt. You can replace the car. You, your kids, that can't be replaced. It's ok."

She sniffed and ran the back of her hand against the tears spilling from her eyes. "Come on, let's get up. Are you hurt babe? I didn't hurt you did I?" I pulled on her arm and held her close to me as she regained her balance. The knee of her pants was torn and I saw blood soaking through. We climbed out of the ditch, and I brushed off the leaves and dirt from her as I tried to distract her from looking over at the car. "Come on, you want to get that knee looked at," I motioned toward the ambulance pulling to a stop.

I handed her over to the paramedics as a firefighter jumped off his rig. He walked over to me and asked what happened. Giving another glance toward Steph, I went with him towards the wreck and explained how the train had barreled past.

I wanted to get back over there, spend a few minutes with Steph before some called her husband; before the cops got all over this and I had to bolt. Holding her, shit, it brought back every feeling I had ever had about her. My arms around her had felt so right. She smelled the way I expected, and her body fit mine the way I always recalled.

I hadn't seen her around since that day almost a year ago. I hadn't felt her presence. I thought I had been given a gift that day, learning she was happy. I should have been able to move on then. But I still hadn't apparently. And she had. I had no choice but to accept it. She had recognized me. But she was someone else's woman.

I heard more sirens, and saw the police cars too. Shit. I need to get out of here. I have been in the Trenton Police Departments radar too often lately; I really didn't want to get bawled out again by the brass at the ATF for playing too loose with this investigation. This was the start of something big for me and Tank. Our reputation was on the line. I couldn't risk fucking it up.

I walked over to the ambulance, where the paramedic was just finishing up wrapping her knee. "Babe." She stood then and leaned into me, not awkward at all, but as if she belonged in my arms. I groaned inside. She _did_ belong in my arms.

"Carlos. Thank you. Thank you so very much! You saved my life, you know that?? How can I repay you?"

I tilted my head to her, and my eyes smiled into hers, as my lips gently grabbed hold of hers. She tasted so sweet. Sweet heaven. I had to pull away.

"There's no price, babe, never." I brushed my lips against her forehead and tugged her closely to me. Just one last embrace, to sear this moment into my brain.

Xxxxxx

I was still shaking. Nothing ever good comes of nightmares. I had always wondered why I feared train tracks. Well, now I know. Shit. But those thoughts quickly were overtaken by the overwhelming calm I felt, being held so gently by Carlos.

Carlos! I could hardly trust myself to look up at him. He was real. Standing here, holding me and murmuring calming words, trying to settle my racing heart. All those times I would randomly think of him, those otherworldly feelings I got when he seemed to be in my subconscious…none of it held a candle to the incredible reality.

Carlos appeared from nowhere, and he saved my life. I leaned into him and felt his lips caress my forehead, soothing me. I recalled last week, meeting his sister Marina. I knew now, all those times I thought I was going crazy, that it was really just that Carlos had been somewhere close by.

The sirens still wailed and I heard gravel crunching as a couple of cop cars screeched to a halt. I looked over Carlos's shoulder and saw Joe climb out of his vehicle. His stride was long and he was at Carlos' back within seconds, before I could even react. He caught my eye. "Are you ok? What happened?"

At that, Carlos turned around with me still holding on for dear life. I looked to Joe and then over to the car. I shook my head. "It stalled." But Joe wasn't looking at me any longer. His eyes were boring into Carlos.

"Let her go. What the fuck? What are you doing, touching this woman?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

And that, dear Babes, is the end of Good Lovin'.

_Ain't__ too Proud to Beg_, or _Heard it Through the Grapevine_ next, which do you think?


	7. I heard It Through the Grapevine part

I HEARD IT THROUGH THE GRAPEVINE

CHAPTER 7 OF THE BIG CHILL, by Aliaslaceygreen

I don't own (all) of them… just playin'

"_I Heard It Through The Grapevine" –Marvin Gaye_

_Ooh, I bet you're wondering how I knew  
About you're plans to make me blue  
With some other guy that you knew before.  
Between the two of us guys  
You know I love you more.  
It took me by surprise I must say,  
When I found out yesterday.  
Don't you know that...  
I heard it through the grapevine  
Not much longer would you be mine.  
Oh I heard it through the grapevine,  
Oh and I'm just about to lose my mind.  
Honey, honey yeah._

I know that a man ain't supposed to cry,  
But these tears I can't hold inside.  
Losin' you would end my life you see,  
Cause you mean that much to me.  
You could have told me yourself  
That you love someone else.  
Instead...  
People say believe half of what you see,  
Son, and none of what you hear.  
I can't help bein' confused  
If it's true please tell me dear?  
Do you plan to let me go  
For the other guy you loved before?  
Don't you know...

Shit. I hung up the cell, made a u-turn on Hamilton, turned on my siren and rushed to the tracks at Lafayette. Stephanie and I had gotten into a huge fight last night. The kind of fight that left me wondering if I could fix it this time. I was almost surprised she called me. I was after her to find a better job, something that didn't make her so stressed like Pino's did. I didn't think Pino's, or waitressing in general was right for her. I wanted her to find something easy, calm, and simple. 'After all, after we get married and you get pregnant Steph,' I reasoned, 'you aren't gonna want to be working anymore anyhow.'

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because she went off on me big time. Fuck. She confuses me. She's the one that confessed to me that she had actually been thinking of changing jobs. Seems she had run into some cousin at a family function last weekend when I was out of town. He had a position at his front desk. Hmm. I thought that was a good thing. I encouraged her, after she calmed down and stopped throwing things, to maybe look up her cousin and take him up on his offer.

And then she goes and tells me it's her deviant cousin Vinnie, and he is looking for someone to run a bond enforcement office. Yeah, that is exactly what she should start doing. No stress or anything. Why me? How come I had to fall in love with the world's most frustrating woman?

I shook my head, thinking of the yelling, the screaming, and the carrying on. She was offended that I thought she was going to marry me. 'You've never asked me once Joseph Anthony Morelli, to marry your ass. What the fuck makes you think I would want to marry you?'

Damn she's sexy when she's angry like that. I was also apparently ill-informed if I thought that the amount of time we'd been together, the fact she'd moved half her shit into my spare bedroom and that I had dinner with her parents almost weekly had anything to do with our relationship becoming permanent. Who the hell did I think I was, marrying her off and keeping her barefoot and pregnant?

I just don't get her. Of course I wanted to marry her! How ridiculous could you be to think I wouldn't want to marry her? Apparently not actually asking was a big mistake. Women. They are all fucking crazy. Stephanie Plum maybe the craziest of all.

My eyes were burning and reddened from closing down the bar last night. I didn't get a good nights sleep either, what with Steph having gone back to her apartment while I was out drowning my sorrows.

I slammed the car into park. Lights and sirens and chaos everywhere. Looks like today fits SOP. Un-fucking believable. There was no train, but no sign of the car either, as I climbed out of the Vic and looked around. Oh fuck, the car is upside down in a ditch on the other side of the tracks! Damn it, she loved that car. It was a tangible proof of her independence; evidence of her ability to bounce back and make a go of things after Dickie.

My pace quickened when I saw what I guessed were Stephanie's auburn curls leaning on the shoulder of some Good Samaritan who must have stopped to help. I called out to her as I approached, "Are you ok? What happened?" And she turned, along with the guy who was comforting her. My eyes bugged out though when I saw whose arms she was resting in. Fuckin' Ranger Manoso. That low-life gang banging asshole. What the hell does he think he's doing, touching Stephanie!

Stephanie looked over to me and then at her car. In her understated smartass way, she told me it stalled. "Let her go. What the fuck? What are you doing, touching this woman?" I spoke through clenched teeth. She looked up into Manoso's eyes, and he released her but didn't step away. He leaned down to her as I approached and I heard him say "Take care of yourself, Babe," and he kissed her forehead. He fucking kissed her! Babe!? He looked me straight in the eye; it almost felt like a challenge. He nodded his head imperceptibly, to acknowledge that he recognized me, and then he turned to leave.

Stephanie wouldn't let go of his shirt sleeve. As he moved away, her fingers trailed down his arm and I was forced to watch her hands' progress in some sick slow motion way. I didn't understand what I was seeing but I was compelled to witness it, like a fucking train wreck. Ok, bad pun. But I couldn't pull my eyes away. Their eyes locked; I would swear that there was actual electricity crackling in the air around them.

In two steps, I was by her side, she was in my arms, and his car revved its engine as he took off. I was afraid to even ask what the hell I just witnessed. So I didn't. It took the better part of the next hour to clear things up, get her car towed away and her to the ER for stitches in her knee. She didn't say much the whole time. She was in shock about her car. I decided maybe not to say anything about Manoso. She wasn't going to ever be around him or anything. She doesn't need to know what a lowlife scum he is, I decided. I don't want her to be exposed to such an element.

"What am I going to do?" she asked me, as I drove to her apartment. I figured we were in something of a little time out and she wouldn't want to come back to my place. I followed her into her apartment and pulled her close. "It'll be ok, cupcake, you'll get another car. Your insurance should cover it."

She sat down, dazed still. I grabbed some pillows and helped her elevate her knee. "You ok? You're taking this a little harder than I would have expected Steph."

"Yeah, I guess. It was so shocking. The whole thing! I mean the sound of the car crashing to the ground, seeing it flip like that, the screeching of the brakes. Even finding that it was Carlos who saved me!"

I had been just letting her go on; talk it out till she was over it. I wasn't really paying attention while I pointed the remote at her TV. But '_Carlos'_ caused me to jerk my head.

"Who?"

"Carlos! I can't believe he was just there. It's been so long, and there he was, just like that, because I needed him…." Her voice was wistful and I looked at her as her words trailed off; she was lost in thought, in her own little world. I was confused. How would she know his name?

xxxxxxxx

I wanted to kick myself in the ass for walking away. Oh, to have had more than 5 minutes to embrace her, to revel in her nearness. To stay with her, to calm her. But my luck, the damn cop responding to the crash had to be Morelli. Jerk's busted my ass more times since I got to Trenton. Fuck. It's like he knows what I am up to all the time and is waiting to pin something on me. I just didn't want him to decide to play it tough and want to search me on principle or something. I didn't want Stephanie to witness that. I slammed my hand against the steering wheel in utter frustration. Just one minute more. To have kissed her again.

I shook my head and glanced at the clock on the dash…I wasn't late. Yet. Julie got very upset if Ella or I were even one minute late picking her up from her summer camp program. I pulled into the lot and realized I had just made it. The kids were pouring through the gate, laughing and screeching. I slammed the car door shut and strode toward the gathering group of parents. Mostly women, they all gave me a wide berth, staring at me; but none of them ever spoke to me. Suited me fine.

The kids were swarming around their mothers, and Julie was busy talking to a little blond girl. Must be that Alyssa she keeps going on about, I mused; and I watched them. I was glad she had found a new friend. She had made a good friend during her first grade year, but Erica and her family had taken off for the summer and Julie was lonely. She scanned the crowd, spotted me and separated from everyone. She barreled past the others, and flew into my arms, "Daddy!" I winced without realizing it when she screeched. She looked at me with concern in her face and kissed the tip of my nose. She put her hand on my forehead. "Daddy. Are you sick again?" She asked in a very serious tone, her eyes locked on mine.

"No, princess why would you think that?" I laughed lightly and shifted her in my arms as I walked to the car. "Because you made a hurt face. And because those mommies over there, I heard one say you looked hot. I don't want you to be sick again."

I had settled her in her booster seat by then, and I think I shocked her by my loud bark of laughter. "No princess. Not sick at all." _Hot_. I wasn't about to try to explain_ that _to a six year old. Shutting her door, I glanced over again at the knot of women. One was actively staring at me. Guess I know who has a big mouth. Hmm. Pretty. Blond. Built. Looks like it might be Alyssa's mother. I filed that information away. I may just need to find out more about her. I flashed her a grin as I settled my sunglasses on my face, and watched as she first blanched and then boldly looked me over, licking her lips. I shook my head, still laughing and closed the door.

I tossed my covers back and sat up. I couldn't sleep. Her scent enveloped me. The heat of her skin was burning my hands. I could feel her heart racing against my chest. I was going out of my mind. I hadn't held her in five years. Five years! And after all that time, one touch, and I was done for. I quietly padded down the stairs and sat down on a bench on my deck. I looked up and counted the stars, such as they were under the haze and the pollution of Trenton. My mind wandered. Stephanie Plum was a part of my blood. My being.

She had looked good. I cataloged all I had seen today. Her hair was a sparkling auburn. It still had those curls. Her body was amazing. Three kids and she looked like that. Damn. She still smelled like the sunshine. Her body in my arms, it was heaven. How frightened she had been. I was so afraid I was going to open the door and find her kids strapped into the car. I was glad I had told Ella I would collect Julie today. Otherwise, who knows what would have happened.

I glanced down at the indentation in my palm. I hadn't realized how hard I was squeezing the black shell she had given me. It had survived all this time, the one concrete reminder to me through the darkness of the time I spent overseas. The time since I said goodbye. It kept me sane, touching this, knowing it wasn't a dream; that there really was someone in the world who had loved me unconditionally, once upon a time. I ran my thumb mindlessly along the ridges, as I had done countless times and I thought of my Babe.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Joe's tone had changed. "Carlos?? Who the hell are you talking about?" he asked with a perplexed look.

My mind registered _that_ tone finally. I had better pay attention before I put my foot into shit. I jerked up, wincing as I pulled at the stitches in my knee, and looked at him in confusion. What was _his _problem?? My car just got totaled and I was never going to be able to afford the likes of a Lexus on my own. I sighed. Not to mention I was probably out of a job. I didn't think I would be able to stay on my feet a full shift for a week or more.

But my mind was clouded by the scent of Carlos; the warmth and strength of his embrace as I had stood on the side of the tracks sobbing and shaking. Carlos. It was so easy to imagine his hands running along my bare skin, skimming the edge of my bikini as we had stood on the boardwalk all those years back. My mind was replaying every last second of this encounter. Every single word that passed his lips. The way he looked. Moved. Sounded.

I was becoming somewhat obsessed over my past. I had spent less than a week in Carlos' orbit. Yet a half decade later, since the second I met his sister at the hospital, every moment had come back into clear focus. It was as if I had dreamt the intervening years. Well, my marriage was more like a nightmare, but still. I realized with a start that I had been sleepwalking through my life, subconsciously hungering for a man, a love that I would never have.

But I had to attend to whatever Morelli was pitching a fit about. He was glowering at me, and wanting to know why I let that prick touch me?

"What the hell are you talking about Joe?" I looked at him like he was crazy. What was he going on about anyway?

"Ranger. Why did you let that low-life scum touch you? Have you no idea who he is? That's the guy I have been telling you about; he's bad news Cupcake. Stay away from him!"

Now it was my turn to look perplexed. "Who are you talking about? Carlos? Carlos saved me! Carlos isn't a …a low-life! Why would you say that? And why did you get all pissy male on him? He saved my life!"

"You _know_ him? Cupcake. Where the hell would you run across someone like him? He hangs out with the dregs of Stark Street, not in Pinos! And he didn't save your life! He didn't even save your car!"

I looked at him with my mouth hanging open. Literally. I was dumbfounded. "Are we even talking about the same thing?" I finally asked. My head was spinning.

He shook his head at me, and shrugged. "I give up. Steph, you are clueless and a fucking disaster sometimes, you know that? I have been telling you about Ranger Manoso for weeks! He is the guy who I can't keep behind bars. Don't you listen to anything I say?"

I shook my head. "No. No, you never told me his name. You must be thinking of someone else. Carlos, he wouldn't…he's not like that… he's a good person…" My voice trailed off, what _did_ I know about him? I didn't know anything about him. Just what he told me himself. Could Joe be telling the truth? No. that's not right. I did know him. I still can feel him in my heart. He's a good person. Honest and true. I knew that the moment I met him.

"Joe. Carlos was in the army! He's one of the good guys." I felt I needed to defend him…but I didn't sound all that convincing. "He –no. No."

"How do you know him?"

"Uhm."

"Cupcake? How would you know someone like him? And no one calls him by his name. How come you do?"

"I, uhm. A long time ago, I knew him. We uhm, well, we knew each other." Lame, Steph. But what could I say? No one but Marylou knew about him!

"You knew him? When? How? He's not from around here! Where would you have met up with him? And why?"

Damn, it's like he's interrogating me or something, I thought with some irritation. This must be what he's like at work. I looked up at him and his face was a carefully crafted blank. Hmm. Officer Morelli reporting for duty.

"Joe. Carlos is not … You're wrong. He was in the army. He was going to some special level. What did you call him? The name you used, not Carlos."

"Ranger. He goes by Ranger on the streets."

I seriously disliked the sneer that Joe was making as he said 'Ranger,' but I shook it off for the moment. "Yeah. That's what he was going to be. He was leaving for Ranger school when I knew him. It was before Dickie and I got married."

Joe looked at me sideways and turned away. "Cupcake, I hate to break it to you, but your buddy is bad news. He's trying to get control of a gang on Stark Street. Stay away from him, ok?"

No. no. I hugged myself, and couldn't look at him. "It's got to be some kind of mistake," I whispered to myself.

"Oh, fuck, Steph. Why do you care anyway? It's in the past. I mean, it's not like he means anything to you."

No. He means more to me than you have any idea. He was my world. He is my world. My heart. The other half of my heart. I knew there was no way to explain to my boyfriend about how this man had made me feel. Bad sportsmanship, I thought. That's why Marylou knew but no one else did. He was a bright shining moment when I was fully alive. How do you tell your boyfriend he'll never measure up to what once was? That anything after Carlos was second best? Oh, fuck. We are in the middle of a time off anyway; I don't need to tell him anything.

"Joe. You know what? Just leave ok? Go home. I don't think I am finished being angry at you for this mornings fight, so, let's not do this, ok?? Just go."

He shook his head, threw up his hands in dismissal and handed me the remote. "Later, Steph," he mumbled as he headed to the door.

I closed my eyes and put my head back onto the couch. God, Joe could be such an ass. Carlos Manoso. Ranger. I rolled the name around in my head. Hmm, I think I like Carlos better. Carlos was a good man. I settled onto the couch and thought through the day. The stupid remnants of the fight from last night picked up this morning like we never stopped. Having to leave work early to get the car to the shop…the discovery of the tracks…that jerk that didn't even stop! What the hell was with that?

And then the black car pulling up. It wasn't his Jag, I realized with a start, and recalled him telling me some day he would have a whole garage full of black cars. I smiled then. I was happy for him. When he walked to me, touching me to reassure me I was ok; at that moment I woke again. I felt his fingers gently glancing my hand. It was the most incredible experience. It ran through me, energizing and sustaining me and I hadn't even recognized it for what it was at that moment. He turned from me and headed to the car with a sense of determination. He had yanked open the back door. That confused me; what was he looking for? I could hear myself screaming his name to move before the train came. And then he was on top of me. His weight, his warmth, his smell, it all helped to desensitize the fact I had been almost blown into the gully.

As he held me, he calmed me. He rubbed my back, my neck he had whispered to me… and I heard his voice again, soothing, calming. He told me that there was nothing to thank him for…that my life was priceless... priceless…you and your children are safe, he had said.

Children? Children? I sat up with a start, and cursed out loud from the pain. Children??

Xxxxxxx

"Carlos, will you be home for a while dear?" Ella asked me as I headed toward the back door of her kitchen. I was planning on shooting some hoops. I needed to work out a little Intel I had just received and I found that the repetition of the ball going through the hoop cleared my mind.

"Yeah. Just heading outside." I nodded down at my attire. I winked at her as she took in my outfit. I had on my black board shorts and a black wife beater. Hair pulled back into a loose pony tail. No shoes. Not quite the bad-ass attire she was used to tsk-tsking every morning as I left for work.

She gave me an indulgent smile. "Very well, dear. I am going to head over to collect Julie from the Gibson's. Keep an eye on the casserole, would you please?" she said as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"Gibson?" I queried. "That's Alyssa's last name, right?" All week I had picked Julie up at camp and every day Alyssa's mother eyed me. But she never came over to the car where I waited. She was definitely interested. And hot. I laughed to myself, recalling Julie's upset over that comment. "Tell you what, Ella, I will go and get her, ok? Give me her address." I looked by the back door and saw my flip flops. I slipped my feet into them while she wrote it down.

"You don't mind dear?"

"No Ella. I would rather do that than be responsible for burning your dinner!" I pat her shoulder and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

I smiled to myself as I fingered the scrap of paper. I hope I hadn't been reading her wrong. I was getting fed up with Marina trying to arrange blind dates for me. Jesus. I didn't need to be set up, for Christ sake!!!

I know she was just doing what she thought was right. Damn foolish woman in love. I shook my head as the engine turned over. I wasn't looking for a relationship. Julie was more commitment than I really wanted at the moment. Or ever, actually. I saw myself as a loner. Always had. It wasn't part of me to want that kind of closeness.

I should have never told Marina about running into Stephanie and the feelings it had rekindled. It was almost like she was this close to condoning my going after a married woman. She definitely had stars in her eyes. The whole Mami romance was bouncing around her brain. That, added to her new found happiness and well, I was screwed. She was all over me becoming as happy as she was, now that she had found herself someone to love. And I did love to see that content, satisfied look on her face. She deserved it. But she didn't understand me.

Fuck, of course I wanted physical contact. I wouldn't bother trying to deny it. But it was easy enough to find a woman to accommodate me. Look; right now I doubt I get the cold shoulder if I make an advance on this Gibson woman. If I want to get laid, I know how to find someone! Why was it so important to find all that other shit too?

As I pulled into the driveway, I didn't worry over what I was dressed like or my hair or any of that crap women spend so much time worrying over. I knew I looked good. Genetics. And if I didn't, well. There was no point in double checking or worrying over it.

I observed everything in her yard on my walk to the front door. I did it without thought, and I would be able to recite very detailed knowledge about her life with startling accuracy. It was a skill that I could never allow myself to lose. I registered the quality of the landscaping, the precision of the flower beds, and the dollar value of the late model BMW. I could hear the girls giggling through the front windows even before ringing the bell.

The curtain on the door moved, and then the door was opened by Alyssa's mother.

"Hi, Ms. Gibson? I've come for Julie," I told her, pushing in between the screen door and the door frame, stepping closer to her than I might have needed to do. I looked into her eyes as I spoke and gave her a predatory smile.

She stuttered and stammered and ultimately blushed as she moved back to give me room to enter. She stuck her hand out and said breathlessly "I'm Elizabeth, Elizabeth Walsh again actually; since my divorce. Do come in Mr. Martine."

Shit, she was nervous as a schoolgirl! "Ranger, please. Ranger Manoso, not Martine," I replied smoothly as I took her hand and held it just a fraction of a second longer than was absolutely necessary.

She led me through the house toward the back yard. Apparently the girls were being very loud; I had thought they were in the front room. As we walked out onto the deck Alyssa looked up. "No!! You can't take her! Julie, I don't want you to leave!"

Julie took up the battle cry, "Daddy, I wanna stay. I'm having fun. It's not time to go home! Please!"

I looked over at Elizabeth and she shook her head indulgently. "They are enjoying themselves; they play so well together; let's leave them be for a while."

"Julie, just a little bit longer, ok? Miss Ella has dinner in the oven," I told my daughter and she ran to me and jumped into my arms.

"Ok Daddy! I love you!" And kissing my nose quickly, she squirmed out of my embrace and flew back to her friend.

Elizabeth motioned for me to follow her and so we ended up in her kitchen, leaning against the counter, beers in hand. The kitchen was bright because of the wall of sliding glass doors, and we stood awkwardly together, watching our girls play. It felt bizarrely suburban. I shook off that uncomfortable thought by turning toward her and looking into her eyes.

She had pretty hazel eyes. Her blond hair was silky straight and almost reached her waist. But she wore a bit more makeup than she really needed, I thought. And for a day at home with the kids she seemed a bit overdressed. I glanced about the room once more, and what I took in reinforced my original thought that she was high maintenance. But she was very pretty. And she was interested. I could see it in every glance, every unnecessary shake of her head, making her hair swing and move. Making parts of me move too. Shit!

Fuck. I had never picked up a woman in her own kitchen before. I was far more comfortable with the dark smoky corners and loud pulsing music of bars. This almost seemed wrong. But the message I was getting from her was that it was all right. Very right indeed. What to talk about though? Kids? Certainly not a mood enhancer. Besides, I don't _know_ anything about kids.

"I'm glad Julie has found Alyssa. She is somewhat shy normally, but she hasn't stopped talking about Alyssa all summer," I tried.

"Yes, Alyssa is thrilled to have a close friend. There have been so many changes in her life lately," she responded.

"You mentioned a divorce."

"Yes. My daughter and I moved back here back in April."

"From?"

"Wisconson. My ex is an executive with a corporation based in Madison, but my family is from Mount Holly. I wanted for Alyssa to get to know my side of the family better." She paused, and then continued, "Julie said your wife died recently. I'm sorry."

I really looked at her then. She had a genuine look of grief for me. "Julie's mother and I have been divorced since she was a toddler. She had been raised by Rachel and her stepfather, hence the differing last names. Rachel died a bit over a year ago."

"Ah," she responded, and shook her head knowingly. "A little girl needs her mommy. It must be difficult trying to do this on your own so suddenly."

"We're managing." Fuck; small talk is awkward. "You are going it alone as well."

"Yes. But, well." She looked me over and I could almost feel her undressing me. "I can't imagine my not being there for her. She seems to be doing ok without her dad. I guess it just tells me how little time he really spent with her."

"Hmm." I responded. I couldn't touch that. I didn't even know Julie until recently. I changed the subject. "So you've only just moved in here?" She looked over and saw an opportunity apparently, because she nodded yes, and then walked to the door. "Alyssa. I am going to give Mr. Manoso a tour of the house, ok? Don't you girls leave this yard, ok?"

"Come, let me show you around," she said with a sly smile, and took my hand. And either I was incredibly ready to jump this woman and couldn't think straight or I was just propositioned.

I followed her through the house, not really listening to a thing she was saying about the décor. My mind was occupied by the feeling of her fingers. She would touch me every chance she could. From an outsiders view it was very platonic, but all my mind was doing was getting her naked. As we approached the last room in the house, her bedroom, she turned again and continued my virtual undressing. "I don't spend too much time in here, it's a lonely room." She opened the door and walked toward her bed, never letting go of my fingers.

"Hmm," I murmured, looking about. Like the rest of the house, it was done to model perfection in shades of ivory and white. I glanced at her lips; she licked them slowly and I pulled her closer to me. "I'm sorry to hear that," I whispered into her hair, and kissed the edge of her forehead. She turned her face toward me and her lips found mine. "You really shouldn't allow your bedroom to become a lonely place," I continued after I released her lips.

We had lost track of time. I was ready to go the distance. Now. Right this moment, I wanted to fuck this woman senseless. I was just on this side of a total loss of control when my cell phone rang. I pulled myself up from the covers of the bed, and reached into my pocket; brushing my hair back with my other hand. I smiled lazily at Elizabeth, and she gave a cheeky grin as she hopped off the bed. She snapped her bra closed. Smoothing her blouse down said she was going to check on the girls.

I came down just behind her, and walked into the kitchen. Elizabeth was squatted down, wiping her daughter's face with a cloth. Damn it but her ass needed squeezing. I was trying to figure out how to go about it with two six year olds in plain view. The girls were carrying on about being hungry. "Mommy can't Julie stay? She can eat dinner here. I want her to sleep over. Can she stay; pleeeeease?

"Please daddy, can I stay? Pretty please?" Now the two of them sounded like little banshees, hopping up and down in each others arms pleasing us to death! I looked over to Elizabeth for her opinion before I got into this. After all, I had no idea about how this type of thing was handled. Julie had never stayed overnight at a friend's house before. And Ella was her social secretary, not me.

"Well, Alyssa, I think Mr. Manoso has dinner planned already sweetie." But the look on her face told me it was up to me.

"I can call Ella; that's not an issue. It would be up to you, Elizabeth…"

"Oh, Julie is such a wonderful playmate for Alyssa. Tomorrow is Sunday, I don't have to be at work… she certainly can stay if she would like."

"Please daddy, please." Julie had released her hold on Alyssa and was bouncing up and down, her pigtails dancing about her head.

Eventually we got it all worked out. I called Ella and told her to take the casserole home to Louis and to enjoy the rest of her weekend. After getting kisses, hugs, and promises of undying gratitude and love from my daughter, I got ready to leave myself. As she walked me to the front door, I got right behind Elizabeth, and put my hands on her hips. I pulled her back into me.

She was only an inch or two shorter than me and I leaned into her ear and whispered "I want to fuck you," as she opened the door. She gave me small, hungry smile and said, "Well, that's good to know. Stay, Ranger. Have a sleepover with me…" I held up my cell phone. "Work. Sorry." And I was. Going on a late night raid with bunch of punks in Newark didn't seem like nearly as much fun as it normally was.

My phone began to vibrate just as Tank and I walked away from the group of thugs who were happily thinking in their drunken state that he and I were the shit. I had to leave it alone till we got to our vehicle. As I slid into the passenger seat of Tank's SUV, I flipped open the phone to look at the readout. I hit re-dial and Tank looked at me from the corner of his eye. "Hot date? I'm not enough for you anymore?" His bellowing laughter echoed in the SUV as I listened to the phone ring.

"Elizabeth, its Ranger Manoso. What's the problem?"

"Oh Ranger, I am sorry to call you so late. But Julie, well, I know you told me she'd never slept away from home before. Alyssa has tried to find her a stuffed animal to sleep with; she's offered up almost everything in the room. But Julie says she can't sleep without something called Mrs. Wabbit?"

"Fucking rabbit," I groaned into the receiver. "Yeah, ok. I will bring it over. I'm in Newark so it will be a bit. Tell her I will be there though, ok?"

"Yes, I will. I really am sorry to disturb you."

"No its ok. I should have thought of that before I left. I am just leaving my appointment now. See you soon." I snapped my phone shut, put my head back and closed my eyes.

"Rabbit problems?" Great, the peanut gallery has to respond.

"Julie. She's at a sleepover. Needs Mrs. Wabbit." I shook my head in utter disbelief.

It was just after 1 AM when I arrived back at Elizabeth's door. I knocked gently, hoping to find everyone had settled down. I saw the light come on from the upstairs, and then the curtain at the door fluttered. Elizabeth pulled the door open slightly and I stepped in. She was in a pale blue robe, some kind of satin, and it was short, and clung to her rather nicely. I looked her up and down in appreciation and then held up Mrs. Wabbit for her inspection, and she laughed. "Kids," I shrugged. She nodded and told me to follow her. I shut the door behind me and headed to the stairs. She was three steps above me and it was a nice view from where I was.

"They are asleep finally, I think," she whispered to me as she opened Alyssa's door.

The moonlight cast a soft glow on the sleeping girls. Julie had apparently found solace in some pinkish 6 legged creature. I sat gently down on the bed, and lifted her arm carefully to exchange the pink thing for Mrs. Wabbit. As her arm came down again she turned and pulled Mrs. Wabbit closer to her, snuggling into her familiar softness and she smiled in her sleep. I bent down and kissed her forehead, and brushed her bangs out of her face. "Love you princess," I murmured, as I stood to leave.

Elizabeth was standing outside the door as I shut it carefully. "Thanks," I told her quietly. "Sorry I didn't think of this. This parenting thing sometimes seems beyond me."

"No problem," she smiled back at me. "It's late," she said to me as we reached the top of the stairs. "You can stay if you like."

I looked her over again, in that slinky little robe, and I recalled how she had felt earlier. I pulled her closer to me, and bent to kiss her, but she had already put her arm around my waist and was guiding me back toward her bedroom.

My lips were trailing along her neck, and her skin, it was hot and sweet under my tongue. I ran my fingers through her hair, loving the feeling of her curls tangling around my hands. Everywhere I touched her, she sighed. She squirmed, set me on fire. 'Babe,' I murmured as I took her nipple into my mouth. I woke then to the internal alarm clock that I could never turn off. I knew it was 5 AM without opening my eyes, but as I opened them I didn't know were I was at first.

I rolled over a bit and my memory cleared, as I saw the long slinky expanse of naked back, the blond hair spilling onto the pillow, the sheets just barely covering her ass. I reached my finger out wanting to trail it along her spine, but I didn't want to wake her, so I pulled it back again. The dream memory of Stephanie was too strong. I slowly shifted myself out of the bed, looking at the same time for where I had discarded my clothes last night in our mad passion. I had just reached out for my cargos when I heard her stir.

"Where are you going Ranger?" She murmured, running her finger along my spine. "Come back to bed."

"I can't stay Elizabeth. The girls…" I stated. I didn't even want to begin to think about how I would explain to Julie my being here in Elizabeth's bed. We hadn't had any of those kinds of issues yet. Considering the women I had sex with generally weren't mommy material I hadn't worried about ever bringing them home.

"They won't be up for hours yet." Her finger was taunting me.

"If I stay, you won't be getting any more sleep," I said, as I turned back to her.

"That's fine. It's nice waking and having someone here."

"Yeah, well, Elizabeth."

"I know. Ranger. It's not anything, right? You aren't looking for anything permanent, you don't want entanglements."

"Yeah."

"It's ok. I didn't expect more. Really."

"You make it sound like I'm merciless."

"No. I'm not ready to get involved either. My ex ran off with his secretary to Vegas, you know? I'm not all that keen on getting involved with a man. But it does get lonely. I'd like it if we could, you know, be friends?"


	8. Grapevine part 2

THE BIG CHILL… I HEARD IT THROUGH THE GRAPEVINE PART 5

In an effort to avoid writing the second part of this thought process here, I have been tweaking and tweaking this ….it's time to let it fly so I can move forward!!!

**Julie POV**

Second grade is so cool!!! And I am glad that Alyssa is in my class. Last year I didn't even know her. My best friend was Erica. But now I have two best friends. But Alyssa is my bestest friend. She is going to be eight years old and she is almost like my sister. She may even get to be my sister for real!

My daddy is always kissing her mommy, ever since he met her at summer camp. When I sleep over at Alyssa's house sometimes Daddy does too. It's funny and weird, but ok I guess. Alyssa says my daddy is very handsome and nicer than her own daddy and that she wants them to get married. I miss having a mommy and Elizabeth is pretty. And then I would have a sister too. And maybe they would get a baby. We could be like a real family.

I rubbed the shampoo around in my hair like Miss Ella taught me. I am almost 7 now and I take a shower all by myself. Sometimes I like to still take baths, but don't tell Alyssa that. She thinks baths are for baby girls. Not big ones. I need to hurry and finish my shower because Miss Ella said she was making my favoritest dinner, macaroni and cheese; since daddy is still away on work. He is supposed to come home tonight. I hope he does because I miss him, and tomorrow is our day to go to story time at the bookstore.

I turned off the water and wrapped myself up. My pink fuzzy towel is so yummy! I love my bathroom. It's all pink, like daddy said I could have when he bought this house. I put my slippers on and my PJ's too and picked up Mrs. Wabbit and went downstairs for dinner.

After dinner, Miss Ella helped me do my math homework. Math isn't fun. I'm learning take-aways now. Adding is easier. But I am also learning to do script letters and that is fun. I can write my entire name, _Julie Mirabelle Manoso Martine_ in script letters. Daddy doesn't know that I use Manoso when I think of my whole name. I like having the same name as my daddy. I love him very much. And he is very handsome, Alyssa is right about that! When I grow up and become a lady, I want to marry someone just like my daddy.

**Steph POV**

"Mom, really, it's no hassle to take Grandma to her doctor's appointment," I told her, again. Damn, I wasn't about to try and explain to my mother why I felt the need to do it! After all, she already thinks I am crazy for putting Joe off all the time, fighting with him, not encouraging him to propose. Joe and I had been _off _for weeks now. And mom wasn't happy about it. All the Burg was atwitter about how Stephanie Plum couldn't keep a man. Hunh! How could I possibly explain to her that I was trying to find out about another man? About the love of my life?

"I will take the Buick; there is plenty of room for her walker. I won't let her get into any trouble either," I promised, "just to Dr. Dennison's office and back." I had to laugh to myself. Grandma was anxious to ditch the walking cast on her ankle, and the walker, which she said made her look like an old fart. Right. That was all that was between her and vixen, I giggled. But she had 10 more days with it on. I tried to remind her that when her physical therapy started she was going to be one happy old lady. God, I hope there will be good looking physical therapists and that they will forgive me for what I've told her.

All we had to do was go to Dr. Dennison's today, get a clear bill of health on her head (well as good as it was going to get; there were definitely screws loose _before _she fell!) and I needed to find something out about Carlos. For almost a month now, I had been pondering his comment. Why would he think I have children? I couldn't recall sharing anything personal with his sister, and if I had, it wouldn't have been about my kids, seeing as I don't have kids. God. I suppressed a shudder. Dickie's kids. Yikes. Did I escape something scary or what!!! Kids of mine, period. Ugh. No thanks.

I hadn't seen or heard from Carlos in over 5 years. From the day he left for Ranger school to the day that he found me on the tracks, the only place I had spent time with him was in my dreams. Oh occasionally I would have daydreams too, so it wasn't solely in my subconscious. But the daydreams; they were painful. It was bad enough that my nights were disturbed by images of Carlos, by Carlos' voice, by the feeling of his fingers tracing along my chin, my neck. Five years of that, and I was used to him being in my bed, pushing Morelli to the edge the moment my eyes closed and my body submitted to sleep. But when he started hovering around me when I was awake, the times I would suddenly think of him for no reason—those times were torture.

I remembered the night we met. And how he found me days later, and we had both dreamed the same dream. He had freaked me out then. Did he still dream of me? Had he dreamt my life, the life I should have had, had Dickie not been such a, well,_ dick_?

He believed I was happy and with children. Was _he_ happy? I couldn't ask Joe any more about him, even though he probably would know a lot. If he was married, where he worked, lived. And then he'd get pissed off. He didn't seem to like him. And well, I guess I needed to find out more on my own. What Joe said about him seemed so wrong. A gang member? A criminal? No! I bet he was a spy or something. I laughed at my line of thought…too much testosterone in my late night movies with Joe! Spy. Right.

I pulled up to the medical center and parked in the fire lane to get Grandma out of the car.

"Don't disappear!" I told her firmly before I moved the car and headed back to the building. Sure enough, by the time I parked the car and returned to the foyer, she had wandered off. Children. Grandma was more than enough to cure anyone of the idea of children, I thought as I took off to find her.

I found her harassing a nice little old man in a wheelchair who was parked near the elevator. I pushed the button, glad to have the doors open almost immediately and ushered her inside before she embarrassed me. I signed her in and settled down for a long wait; the room was crowded. After an interminable amount of waiting, listening to her try to pick up every geezer who wandered through the room, her name was called. I followed behind her as the nurse led us to Marina Dennison's office.

Grandma of course, couldn't sit still in there either. Her walker abandoned next to the chair, she was hobbling and poking and prodding around, head spinning. Looking for evidence. Of what? Who knows with grandma! If you want the absolute truth I was afraid of knowing, so I chose not to ask. I just kept begging her to sit back down! And at the same time was trying not to lose my nerve about asking Marina about Carlos. I just couldn't figure out how to do it.

Marina caught Grandma red-handed as she came in and closed the office door. "Good afternoon, ladies," she cheerily called, and Grandma pulled the picture frame she had been looking at to her chest with a guilty expression. However she was sharp and quick on her feet, and she cackled, (I know, it's bizarre, like some fairy tale, but cackled is really the best description!) "Your husband is quite the hottie there doctor. I can't understand why you'd bother coming to work every day!"

My expression was apologetic and resigned as Marina held out her hand and grandma handed the frame back to her. Then she laughed as she looked at the picture. "Oh, that's my baby brother and his little girl! Those," she nodded to a bookcase behind her, "are my boys." I looked up, startled, knowing I should be polite and look over at her sons, but wanting to look at the photo of Carlos. She saw my indecision and took pity on me. "Come on Edna, let's have a look at you," she murmured, setting Carlos' picture back on the desk right in front of me with a smile. "Julie looks just like Carlos, doesn't she Stephanie?" Come on now, Edna. Let's go into the examining room."

As soon as they closed the door, my hands reached out and grabbed the photo. It was recent. His hair, it was long, like the day he saved me. I decided I really liked the look. I wondered what it would feel like if I could run my fingers through it. It made him even sexier, if possible. A bad boy. God, his arms were huge! Muscles on muscles. And Julie. His daughter? He has a daughter. A daughter. And a wife then. Damn it, I'm too late. My fingers slid across the glass, running along his cheek, remembering the feel of his lips.


	9. Grapevine part 3

The Big Chill

I Heard it Through the Grapevine 7

Xxxxxx

"Daddy! You came home!" I ran from Mrs. Morton's side when I saw daddy. He called last night and said he wouldn't be home till today, but that he would pick me up from school.

"I promised you, didn't I?" he said to me when I stopped squeezing his neck. He made a funny choking sound and made me giggle.

"Yeah. We won't be late for story time either."

"Nope. Wouldn't miss that for the world, princess."

Daddy took my backpack in one hand and my hand in his other hand and we walked to his truck. I watched all the other kids get picked up. No one else had a daddy pick them though. Just me. But that's because they all have mommies. I really wanted a mommy. But daddy always said no. He told me that he didn't want to get married any more.

I had asked him why one night when Miss Ella was off and he tucked me into bed. I said my prayers like Miss Ella taught me. He asked me what I prayed and I told him I asked Baby Jesus to give me another mommy. He pulled my blanket up around me and Mrs. Wabbit and he kissed my nose then. I hugged him tightly and he told me to move over and he lay down next to me. "Julie," he whispered, really quietly. "I love you, ok?"

"Uh huh."

"I know you miss having a mother. I missed mine too. But Miss Ella, she takes really good care of you doesn't she?"

"Uh huh. But daddy, she's more like a granma. I want a mommy." I turned around under the blanket and curled up onto daddy's chest. His arm hugged me close to him. I felt safe like that. "Why don't you and Elizabeth get married? Then I could have a mommy and Alyssa could have a daddy. You love her don't you? You are always kissing her."

"Julie. Alyssa has a daddy already. There's all kinds of love, Princess." His voice was getting that grown-up sound to it. I didn't know what he meant, because I loved him the only way I knew how. Just because I did. I didn't know why he couldn't love a lady too, and then we could be a family. But he doesn't want a wife, that's what he told me. He said he likes it the way we are now. I still want a mommy, though.

When we got to the bookstore daddy found a seat and I wanted to go look at some books before it was 4 o'clock and the story lady got there. Daddy promised me he would tell Alyssa where I was when she got there. She had to go to the dentist first before story time today.

xxxxxxxxxx

My grandmother is a panic. Really and truly. Cosmo? I suppose I am meant to sneak it into the house too. I feel like I am 12 again, wanting to peek into the boys bathroom to see what all the fuss is about. Barnes and Noble, forgive me for letting her loose, I thought, pulling up to the door. "I will be right behind you, ok? Don't disappear," I told her, setting her walker up on the sidewalk.

"Of course dear. And while we are here, you should probably go find a horse book for Mary Alice. She will be turning 4 soon and she seems to love her little horse toys." Somehow, the smile on her face didn't make me feel secure in any way. She was up to something alright. Well, nothing I could really do about it but keep my eyes open. I was a bit frustrated that I had caved so easily at Dr. Dennison's office and didn't try to pursue anything about Carlos. I am such a wimp, I thought to myself. I just don't want to know he has moved on, I guess. I should be happy he's happy. Damn, I sighed, he looked good in that photo.

I wandered over to the magazine section to make sure Grandma was behaving. She had taken a seat, her lap was full of magazines; I didn't even want to know what she had found. "I'm going to go look for a gift for Mary Alice," I told her. I had totally forgotten her birthday was coming up. I am such a bad aunt. I had to stop by the café and get a coffee first though. It smelled heavenly. I stood in line and looked around the store for the children's area. Over in the far corner, there were a bunch of comfy looking overstuffed chairs that kind of barricaded the spot.

I took my steaming cup of coffee over to the bar to add some cream and sugar, and glanced again toward the children's area. What to buy? I had no clue. It was funny if you really thought about it. I wasn't a good adult. I didn't have all the adult trappings. Career, home, family. I didn't dress seriously or have a 401k. I didn't worry about matching china. I didn't host dinner parties. For such a bad adult, you would think I would feel more comfortable with children! But they too were an enigma. They confused me. Ah, coffee, though, I thought enjoying that first sip, now coffee, I understand. Nectar of the gods indeed! I sighed contentedly and decided to march head-on into the children's section. Surely there were books about horses!

I hadn't taken one step before I had to stop and blink my eyes. I had been fantasizing too much lately. My creative processes were in overdrive, because my eyes immediately conjured up the little black-haired girl in the photo in Marina's office. Julie, she had said. No. it couldn't be. But I watched spellbound, as this little pixie sat on her knees, arms wrapped around a man's neck, nuzzling into him and then kissing him on his cheek. His hand reached up and rubbed her head, and she bounded out of the chair and ran, all legs, into the maze of bookshelves.

I took one step, and then another, forcing myself to walk over there, to look down and sigh a silly sigh of --relief? –regret? Well, I would have to get over it once I realized it wasn't Carlos after all but rather just my overactive imagination. As I got closer to the chair though, a feeling of complete calm swept over me, and I felt the same rush of feelings I had felt every time I had ever found myself in Carlos' presence. I hesitated for the slightest moment, just steps behind him, and he turned his head, like he knew I was there all along.

"Babe," he breathed slowly, his hand closing down the screen of his laptop. I walked around the chair, never taking my eyes off of his.

"Carlos." My eyes were watering. He was real. Handsome. Hair long enough to be pulled into a ponytail. Dressed head to toe in black. And real.

"Sit." He inclined his head ever so slightly to the empty seat to his right.

And I did.

The chairs they have here are oversized, so that even though they are all close together, you don't feel like you are in someone else's space. A bit modern in styling, they had flat, wide arm rests. I sat, coffee in one hand, and placed my other hand into his outstretched palm. His eyes shone with some emotion I couldn't even identify. He was positively beautiful. "Babe," he said again, squeezing my hand tightly, and then resting our entwined fingers onto the armrests between us.

I could have sat that way all the day through. Just feeling his warmth, the pressure of his palm. The piercing stare of his eye. "This is a nicer way to run into you," I finally stated, my mouth dry, my words shaky. Way to go, Steph!

His lips curved slightly at my comment. "You're better when you aren't so stressed babe."

"Yeah," I murmured. The silence that followed wasn't exactly awkward, but it wasn't really comfortable either. I was just trying to steady my breathing, trying to absorb some of the calm I felt in his entwined fingers.

Carlos finally broke the silence. "Your boys enjoy story time here too? Which are they?" His head tilted toward the gathering group of children sprawling out on the floor.

"Carlos." I looked at him like I had just awakened from a dream. Right. This is the thing I wanted to ask his sister about. Talk, fool! "I –uhm, where'd you get the idea I had some kids? You said that at the accident too."

He didn't speak, he just stared at me, not speechless, per se, but like he was waiting for more. Do it, Steph! I could hear a little voice telling me. Go for broke! So what if he's married and has a child! Tell him. Open up. Take a chance!

My voice was wavering, shaky, but I did it. "Carlos. I don't have any children. I got divorced. Pretty quickly actually." I shrugged my shoulders. "You were right, by the way." His fingers squeezed mine in sympathy, but I didn't get any 'I told you so' or other bad vibe like that. He earned some points there!

"You don't have children? A few months back, I saw you in the park with a couple of little boys and a stroller. I didn't interfere. I thought you were happy." His voice was low, quiet; melancholy even.

"No!" I laughed nervously. "I don't know much about children! I am supposed to be looking for a gift for my niece right now," I reminded myself out loud.

Carlos turned his head and looked at me, his eyes peering into my soul. "You are so very beautiful. Even more so than when I see you in my dreams, babe."

I didn't even know what to say. "Carlos." That's as far as I could go. I hoped it said everything I wanted it to, like the way I heard so many unvoiced thoughts in the way he breathed the word 'Babe.'

His lips curved and I knew he understood. And then a little tornado flew at us and leaped into his lap. "Daddy can I get this book? Please?"

"Julie." Carlos tone had changed, and was stern and commanding.

"Oh, sorry. Excuse me," she said, looking at me with a gap-toothed grin, then swiveled her head back at Carlos. "Daddy, can I have this book? It's a chapter book but I can read it!"

He let go of my hand and took it from her and flipped through the pages. "Would Miss Ella approve or are you slipping something by me?

Daddy!"

He laughed and lightened up a bit. "Yes, princess. Leave it here." She grabbed his face and kissed him and took off again like a rocket. Wow. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a cell phone. "Sorry about that. How can I contact you babe?"

I looked at him and I smiled, bit my lower lip and shook my head just slightly. "Should you?" I asked, looking over to where his little girl had disappeared.

"I'm unattached."

"Oh."

"Babe. Your number?"

"Right." And I gave it to him, just because he asked. "She looks like you, Carlos."

"So I'm told." He laughed then. "She's a spitfire for sure."

"How old is she?" This all felt weird now.

"Almost 7 going on 29." He was serious.

"Seven. Then, when we met….you never told me about her."

"I didn't tell you a lot of things, babe."

"But a child………."

"She wasn't a part of my life then." And his tone indicated that the conversation regarding his daughter was finished. I struggled for a moment to find a safe topic. "How long have you been back in Trenton?" That couldn't be considered too personal I thought.

"Babe." He looked at me again, and his fingers laced through mine. "I've missed you." His smile reached deep down into my soul. "I was discharged last year. I moved here shortly thereafter. I thought about you so often. You kept me sane, do you know that?" He had lifted my hand to his mouth, and his lips gently tasted my fingers. His kiss was whisper soft, but hot, and the intensity was nothing compared to what I saw in his eyes. I was lost then, again, and I knew it.

We sat in silence for a few minutes; I was incredibly turned on, his lips making love to my hand as he was, here in public, in front of everyone was erotic. But it was so right, the feeling of our bodies together. Touching in any fashion made me feel more complete than ever. I wanted to feel him closer, I didn't want anything to be between us. He seemed to know, because the pressure of his grip tightened incrementally until I almost gasped. His smile was that of a wolf on the prowl. Feral and base and ohmygod, what he made me feel.

And then, there was another little girl demanding his attention. "Hi Ranger! Look, I had no cavities!" the little blond girl said with a huge grin, and Carlos; no, Ranger let go of my hand and addressed the child. "That's good, Alyssa. Julie is waiting for you over there," he said and pointed toward her, but my eyes had been distracted by a beautifully manicured hand that settled on Carlos shoulder. The shoulder next to mine. I twisted my head slightly and watched as a beautiful blonde woman, obviously the mother of the shiny-toothed child, bent down and said, "Sorry we're late, baby."

I got the smallest amount of satisfaction when Carlos reached over and picked up my hand before addressing her.

"It's fine Elizabeth. It hasn't started yet." He squeezed my hand just slightly before letting it go. Elizabeth sat down in the chair opposite us, and Carlos turned to Elizabeth and introduced us. "Elizabeth, this is Stephanie Plum. Babe, Elizabeth Walsh."

Holy crap. The man is crazy. I could see she didn't care for me being within a country mile of her 'baby'. And he just went and introduced us like nothing. I knew she had seen him kissing my hand. She came from behind us. Shit. Unattached my ass. Of course, fuck, I really did have to get up and leave first. God only knows what trouble Grandma has gotten in since I have been sitting over here, mesmerized by Carlos.

"I, uhm,… Grandma needs to get back home. My mother is probably wondering where we got off to after the doctors."

"Marina?"

"Huh? How'd you know?" His look told me he knew a great deal. "She's a great woman, Carlos."

"She is. Meddlesome, too."

I had stood up by then, and Carlos stood too; his hand was on my elbow, keeping me there, pressed between him and a shelf of books. His smile was telling me that he thought that it wasn't by chance we had met today. He pulled me closer to him, into his embrace. "I love holding you babe," he whispered into my ear; followed immediately by "Is your grandmother using a walker?"

"Don't turn around," he laughed slightly. "We've been had," he told me and then his arms tightened around me and he kissed me, thoroughly and long, right there in the middle of the store. His lips finally broke the kiss, and he needed to support me because I forgot how to stand. "She's on her cell phone now. What would you bet she is calling her neurologist?"


	10. Grapevine part 3 or4

Elizabeth POV

I sat in the chair, mesmerized; no, horrified by what I was witnessing. I couldn't, for any amount of money, have peeled myself out of the seat, as much as I wanted to throw myself at them both. I was rooted to the spot, white-hot anger boiling close to the surface. Ranger had let this Stephanie Plum out of his embrace, but it seemed as if he regretted it. He stood, watching her and the old lady with the walker turn away and leave. Plum looked back twice, and he was still watching. I looked at her carefully. I would never have guessed that she would be his type. She was in a pair of jeans, a tank top stretched across breasts that were unimpressive, a denim shirt pulled over that. Her hair was messy, un-styled, in a sloppy ponytail and it appears she had never graduated from the cosmetics aisle at CVS. He pulled out his phone, and I heard him ask for this Marina person he talked about earlier. He looked, wow, I guess bewildered would be the word for it.

I wasn't above eavesdropping although truly he wasn't off in a corner, just feet from me. His voice, it was mellow as he spoke. "Rina? Thank you." And then he hung up. He never did do well on the phone. I guess she knew what it was about. I wanted to know, too.

He took a step into the swarm of children and touched Julie's shoulder. "We need to leave. Now."

Julie protested, as I guessed she would. I stood then, and went over to him. "Ranger."

He looked at me with surprise. He had forgotten I was here! He made a good recovery though, and the surprise quickly faded into that damned blank look he had so often.

"Leave her. I will take her home if you need to go."

He looked at me intently, and then turned back to Julie, who was waiting patiently. He nodded, and she smiled and sat back down to enjoy the story lady. I went back to the easy chairs, and sat in the one next to his. Where she had sat.

He came back and took his seat. "Elizabeth."

I looked at him carefully. He was shaken in some way. It was subtle; it wasn't an overt emotion or anything. But I also knew I had been eliminated from his world. As if I had ever been a part of his world, I laughed to myself. The past couple of months with Ranger in my life, they had been----what? Actually what had they been, I thought? I realized suddenly other than mind-blowing sex, and damn was it mind-blowing---the man had the equipment and knew what to do with it---I knew we had never reached beyond that. The physical.

Yeah, I had agreed to it. I was still off the idea of relationships, because of my jerk ex. But Ranger never offered or suggested a relationship. We had fallen into a simple routine. The girls loved to spend time together. Once or twice a week, they would have a sleep-over. And Ranger would sometimes be a part of it. He'd usually come over late, after working at his super-secret career he couldn't tell me about, and we'd fuck like rabbits all through the night. Just thinking about his cock pounding into me was getting me wet, and that was a bad idea, I realized. I knew without a shadow of doubt that he would never be sharing my bed again.

He never was one for words. I was trying to decipher what he was trying to tell me, and all I was coming up with was an apology. I took a deep breath, and looked him straight in the eye. "That's her, isn't it?" I said quietly.

He raised an eyebrow slightly.

"That's who you are thinking about when you fuck me?"

He closed his eyes for a brief moment. For a fraction of that second there was emotion on his face, and then he closed down.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth."

Shit. The fight went out of me. He really was wound tight about her. "Ok. Well." My voice was shaking, but I wasn't going to break down. "I'll take Julie home when this is done then, ok?" I tried to sound uninterested, aloof. It didn't work; I heard the hitch in my voice, I knew he did too.

His finger tips trailed along my arm, in some sort of apologetic dance. "Elizabeth." He sounded tortured. Well almost. Not comfortable at the very least. Good, I thought. I really didn't want to give in so easily. I looked at him, eyes hooded; making my one pathetic attempt at keeping him, although I could see it was pointless.

"If you change your mind, Ranger, I was going to suggest that we spend some time in the den tonight; I was thinking about how good it felt last time, the ottoman…." I know he got off on fucking me that way, me bent over on my knees, hugging the ottoman, his length filling me so tightly………shit. I am going to be useless. He's not ever touching me again and I am going to be strung tight, wanting to feel him one more time. Smart move, fool.

"Elizabeth," he ground out once more, his voice tight, controlled.

He got up then and walked over to the children once again. I followed him. "Tuesdays are our night," he said quietly, nodding his head slightly toward his daughter. "I'll take her when it's done."

And that was it. We were finished.

xxxx

Are short, but more frequent updates working for you???

Enjoy!


	11. Chapter 11

The Big Chill

"I Heard it Through the Grapevine," part LAST.

I begged off dinner. I told mom I had a headache, promised I would come to dinner the next night, and left with a bag of food anyway. I didn't think I was up to sitting at the table with grandma continuing to go on about Carlos' PDA. I didn't want to have to try and explain it to my mother, and grandma didn't believe me for a minute when I said that I hadn't thought of him in years.

She barely could control herself long enough for me to make a mad dash through the children's section for a book for Mary Alice. As soon as she was settled into the car, she started in on me.

"Stephanie, why didn't you introduce me to your young man? He certainly was a hottie. Where have you been hiding him all this time? And _what_ will Joseph think about it?"

"I wouldn't mind having a peek at some more of his goods," she continued, unabashed at my non-response. My head was throbbing thirty ways by the time she was up the porch stairs, so my headache wasn't even a lie this time.

I grabbed the dinner bag and slammed the car door closed with my hip, balancing the bag, my pocket book and a box with a fabulous pair of gold lame' pumps I had purchased this morning, while I maneuvered through the double door into my apartment building. Stepping off the elevator moments later, I muttered home sweet home to myself, while propping my collection of bags against the wall to unlock the door.

Yeah, home sweet dorm room, I thought, taking a sad look at the pathetic excuse for decorating in front of me. Dirty towels tossed on the floor near the bathroom, all my shoes and sneakers scattered from the entry to the bedroom. Ugh. Cleaning day must be coming soon, I thought as I tossed the new crap on top of the old crap and brought dinner to the counter. I tapped on Rex's cage and he popped his head out for a nanosecond. Because I offered him nothing more than a wave (no carrots or grapes or food of any kind) he scooted right back to where he came from. "Love you too," I grumbled.

Damn. Why was I so out of sorts? I had just this afternoon had my face kissed off. Carlos was available. I was still drawn to him like a magnet. I should be walking on air. All these years, all this time that I had dreamt of him, why, it seems he had dreamt of me too!! Well damn! This was good, wasn't it?

So what was bothering me? I put the container into the microwave and saw my answering machine was blinking. I hit 30 seconds, high; and rewind, and grabbed a fork and a Corona. The first message was mom, wondering if we got lost. The second, someone selling vinyl siding. The third, Marylou.

"Steph, ohmygod. Tell me it isn't true? Have you lost your mind? Is what Annette Rabinsky told me true? You made out with a complete stranger in the bookstore?"

"Oh. FUCK. SHIT. Fuck fuck fuck." Beeeeep. Beeeeep. Yeah, I don't think dinner is on my mind any more.

I took another long swig of my beer, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I set the bottle down and promptly banged my head against the counter. Now I knew why I was so…. Off. Joe. Shit.

Well maybe he won't hear about it. Right. Sure. Eddie Gazarra shared a desk with Joe. And he was married to Shirley the Whiner, a distant cousin of mine. And _she_ was the PTA co-chair with Annette Rabinsky's sister-in-law, Robin Locklear. Joe is going to hear about this. I just know it. DAMN.

Finally I gathered my wits about me enough to turn off the ringer on the phone. There was no way I was dealing with busybodies all night long. I plopped onto the couch and tucked my knees up under my chin. Damn it. I didn't see anyone I knew at the bookstore! Of course, I _was_ distracted. I looked down at my hand, and I could feel his lips still, gently grazing along my fingers. I shivered, and closed my eyes.

That had been orgasmic, his touch. He looked good. Strong, in control. He seemed to be a good dad too. I wondered about that. He didn't want to talk about her at all, I recalled. That little girl, Julie, she would be a heartbreaker some day. She looked just like Carlos, in a miniature feminine package. He has an ex too. Oh, god, what do I do if he calls? What are Joe and I? Where are we, what is going to change?

These were overly deep thoughts for me after the day I'd had. I decided to go to bed. All the answers can be found there, I had long ago discovered. And if they can't well, at least sleep would overtake me and make all my problems go away.

Xxxxx

It didn't take me 5 minutes to locate Steph's address after I tucked Julie into bed. She lived in a not so spectacular part of Trenton, I noted. I forced myself to shut down my computer before running a complete search on her and her life, acquaintances, and job. It was second nature for me to do so, but it felt wrong this time. Since I had formed RangeMan last year I had access to the most invasive of government search programs, and I utilized them for everything. But never once had I entertained the idea of peeking into her life… it seemed like it would be a slippery slope once I started. I knew she was my secret obsession. And that was fine, in the arena of sleep, of dreams. But in my day-to-day life, I couldn't allow that distraction.

It was nearing midnight when I finally decided once and for all to just go ring the bell. I had been sitting outside in her parking lot for hours, staring at the lights in her unit. No movement. No one entered, or left. Good. No boyfriend at least. I hoped. I had pressed her name on my cell a hundred times, letting the call go through once, on my 60th attempt to call her. And her machine picked up.

I stood in front of her door for a long time. It was late, and ringing the bell seemed improper. I looked at the lock and made a decision. Shutting the door behind me without a sound, I let my eyes orient themselves to the darkness, making out pathways, finding doors. All the things that were trained into me; that I did without conscious thought or even acknowledgement. One bedroom apartment, nothing fancy. I glanced around once more. Well that was an understatement. Maybe she just moved in.

I knew my stealth capabilities would allow me to enter and leave without her knowledge, if that was what I chose to do. I hadn't decided yet if I would wake her, or just watch her sleep. I approached the hallway, and stopped suddenly when I heard a squeaking noise. Slowly turning my head, I zeroed in on the source. Huh. She owns a rat. He looked like he was aiming for an all night session on his wheel. I resumed my careful progress down the hall. I chose the second door as her bedroom, and placed my hand on the knob. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I hoped she wasn't a light sleeper. I was quiet; I knew that if I didn't want to be noticed I wouldn't be, but I didn't want her to freak out if she found me there either. Technically I did just B and all I needed was the cops tonight.

I stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching her sleep for a long time. She filled the bed. She was sprawled out spread-eagled; and I was hard, staring at her tiny black lace panties, and the loose fitting white t-shirt that had ridden up around her breasts, leaving the flat expanse of stomach and belly button glowing in the moonlight. Her legs were as long as I remembered. My hand went to my crotch as I recalled the feel of her breasts in my hands; the way she had felt against me, standing in the surf that long ago summer day, her warm bare skin molded to my body.

I took two steps and found myself at the bed's edge without conscious effort. I cast a slight shadow on her face and as I got ready to carefully ease myself onto the edge of the bed, she stirred. She opened her eyes, and mumbled my name as she focused on my dark shape.

Her hand came up to rub her eyes. "Carlos," she stated again, but still without fear of my being here. Good. I sat down on the bed's edge, and reached out to caress her face. "Babe," I murmured.

"What are you doing here? What time is it?" She continued to rub her eyes and yawn and stretch her arms, which wasn't helping my situation at all. I saw her nipples pebble under her t-shirt and it took all my willpower to keep my hands to myself.

She sat up in the bed, continuing to pepper me with questions. "You ever hear of a phone? And how _did_ you get in here?"

I laughed then. "Babe, my daughter could break into this apartment." At that, she stuck her tongue out at me and crossed her arms over her chest. Her tongue! I shook my head internally. Focus! "I called. Your machine picked up. It's past midnight. And I wanted to see you."

Xxxxxx

Now I was really aggravated. Why does it always happen this way? You are having the most wonderful of dreams, and the darned alarm clock is determined to break in and wake you! I reached over and smacked the blasted thing and pulled the cover tight. I wanted to go back to my dream! It had been wonderful and full of Carlos and me together. His arms had enveloped me, and we had kissed and his breath whispered through my hair and it was so incredibly good. It kept beeping, and I swatted ineffectually toward the nightstand again. Why didn't the damned thing stop?

"Babe," I heard then, and Carlos' hand reached out to grab mine. He sat up and reached for his cargos, and pulled out a phone. "Yo. I know. Ok, 20," and he closed it. It wasn't a dream?

I opened my eyes and I was presented with the extraordinary sight of Carlos' back. Wearing nothing but black silk boxers, he was running his hands through his long black hair. I knew how that felt. Oh, yeah. My eyes traveled up and back down his back. Muscle on muscle, incredibly smooth mocha skin--- Yum. I licked my lips and just stared. He turned then and leaned down to kiss my cheek. "See something you like?" He laughed lowly and kissed my nose, too. "I'm sorry, babe, work," he nodded toward his phone.

I scooted up and pulled the blanket with me. He pulled it back down and ran his finger along the neckline of my t-shirt. "Thank you for letting me stay." He tucked a curl around my ear and stood then, pulling on a fitted black shirt. Damn, I would have called it painted on if I hadn't just watched him dress!

"Babe, you're staring."

"You aren't a dream."

"No."

"Last night wasn't a dream?"

"No babe." He was laughing at me now, I just knew it; his eyes scrunched a tiny bit and his mouth barely curved.

"What time is it?" Profound. I'm just not that good in the morning; what can I tell you.

"6:15."

"AM?"

"Yeah, babe." Again with the laughing thing. I'm glad he finds me entertaining. By now he had dressed fully and was lacing his boots. He turned and kissed me again, and this time he made a real effort. I could barely breathe when he pulled away.

"Dinner tonight?"

"Huh? Uh, yeah. Umh, that would be nice."

"Great. No. Fuck, tonight's out. How about Friday? 7 PM?"

I nodded in agreement and he bent down to kiss me once more. "Friday babe."

As I heard the apartment door close, I realized my cell phone was vibrating. I reached over to find it in my jeans. Isn't sleep time sacred to anyone?

I looked at the read-out. Joe. Fuck. "What," I mumbled into my cell. "It's the middle of the night Joe."

Xxxxxx

"Cupcake, we need to talk." I glanced into the rearview mirror and hung a quick U-ie on the deserted pre-dawn street to get to Steph's apartment building.

"Now?"

"I'm pulling into your lot; yeah, now. My shift just ended."

"What? Why?"

"I heard some really interesting stories last night, Cupcake."

"Whatever. Let yourself in, I'm going back to sleep."

I snapped my phone shut and tossed it onto the seat next to me. Damn woman. What the fuck was going on, I wondered. I pulled into a parking spot near the dumpster and saw a late model black sports car back out of another spot and pull away. It was familiar but I couldn't place it. There certainly wasn't a senior in Trenton who drives something that rich!


	12. Ain't Too Proud to Beg

Ain't Too Proud to Beg

I know you wanna leave me,  
But I refuse to let you go  
If I have to beg and plead for your sympathy,  
I don't mind coz' you mean that much to me

Ain't too proud to beg, sweet darlin  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go  
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby  
Please don't leave me, girl, don't you go

Now I heard a cryin' man,  
Is half a man with no sense of pride  
But if I have to cry to keep you,  
I don't mind weepin' if it'll keep you by my side

Ain't to proud to beg, sweet darlin  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go  
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go

If I have to sleep on your doorstep  
All night and day just to keep you from walkin' away  
Let your friends laugh, even this I can stand   
Because I want to keep you any way I can

Ain't too proud to beg, sweet darlin'  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go  
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go

Now I've gotta love so deep in the pit of my heart  
And each day it grows more and more  
I'm not ashamed to come and plead to you baby  
If pleadin' keeps you from walkin' out that door

Ain't too proud to beg, you know it sweet darlin'  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go  
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go  
Baby, baby, baby, baby (sweet darling)

The Temptations.

I continued up the stairs, shaking my head. That car. Damn. I know I know it. I rubbed my eyes once more. What a night. As if it wasn't busy enough collecting the scum of the earth, I had to handle all the bullshit with every phone call about Stephanie and some dude in the bookstore putting on a show. Damn that woman. Has she no sense at all? And then upon hearing this, I felt compelled to keep pointing out, if only to appease my male pride; that we were indeed in the middle of a time out. Who the fuck wants to admit that their girlfriend is two-timing them? Shit.

My knuckles were poised on the door, but then I remembered she had been bitching about the hour, so I pulled out the key I had had made way back when and let myself in. I glanced around, and once again couldn't understand why it was that it was so hard to convince her to move in with me permanently. This place had all the warmth and hominess of a prison cell. I took a quick step to the right to avoid a pile of Macy's bags dumped on the floor near the hallway, and quietly walked to her door. True to her word, she was flat out on the bed, asleep.

I sat on the edge of the bed and she groaned and rolled over, opening one eye just the smallest bit. She grunted at me something about sleep being sacred and pulled the blankets out of my hand and back over her head. Through the layers of fabric I thought I heard her mutter "Whaddya want Morelli?"

I looked over at the lump in the bed, and I saw her knee sticking out. Fuck, her thigh was bare, and I could imagine my hand running along it. I had to grab my one hand with the other to avoid reaching out.

"Awh, Cupcake, come on. The boys miss ya," I finally groaned. "Shit. This back and forth crap, we're dating, we're not, we're dating, it's killing me cupcake." I bent over and nuzzled the cover, searching out her face. I knew how to convince her. If she just gave me the sign, just the smallest encouragement I'd be back in her bed. And once I got _there_, I'd be back in her good graces.

She pulled away like she was still pissed. No, she just still wants to sleep, I told myself. She's gotta be getting lonely herself. I knew her sex drive. And while we weren't always on the same page about a lotta shit; damn that had never been an issue. I rolled off her and plunked myself down on the pillow next to hers.

"You change laundry detergents?" I whispered into her ear.

"Huhn?" She pulled the cover from over her face and looked at me weirdly.

"The pillow, it smells different." She got the look of a frightened animal in her eyes for a minute, and then plopped back down and pulled the covers up again. "Go away, Morelli," she growled.

Fuck, she's touchy. "Back off Steph, just asking."

I lay there for a while. She made no effort to talk, and neither did I. She had probably fallen back asleep and wasn't even aware I was here, I considered ruefully. I decided to send out an exploratory hand. If I got no response, or at least if the response I got was affirmative, maybe I could just fix this now. My mind kept going over all the phone calls. One call, I would chalk it up to nosiness. Busy-bodied burg manners, if you could believe it, would force someone to share such information. But getting virtually the same call five times in one night, from such a variety of sources, well it really put truth on the side of the information. And that scared me.

I knew Steph was a flighty thing. And I also knew we belonged together. It was just the getting there that seemed to be so difficult. Hell, I was a catch; I knew that. It's not false pride. I hear it from people all the time. Why should I act like I don't know it? I knew she loved me too. But I was a bit more than nervous to tell you the truth, about the idea of competition. I shouldn't be, right? I mean, I've known her all her life. She did it with me first. I'll always have a place at the top of the list.

But sometimes she made me crazy. She didn't have any real ambition. Or desire. Or something. Most girls, you date them more than a few times and they start wanting to change the curtains in the kitchen and they make sure to leave jewelry ads out on the table, accidentally. They start talking about their cousin's wedding or baby or house. You know, leaving hints that they wished it was them. That slightly envious and obviously carefully orchestrated shit to drop boulder sized hints about a future. Yeah, it sucked. I hated it with other women. And I missed it with Steph. It seemed if I made comments about the future she froze up and just stopped being her.

I began to slide my hand across her stomach while I was thinking. Damn what she does to me. I was getting all ready for action just thinking about touching her. And then she smacked my hand down. "Guess you are awake then, huh?" I laughed at her and sat back up.

"What time is it anyway?" she growled.

I looked at her clock. "Just after 7."

"Shit. I have to get up; it's my first day at my new job!!!" She jumped like I had smacked her.

"Your new job?"

"Yeah, I thought I told you? My cousin Vinnie, he needs a person to run his front desk. I told you, I know I did. Anyway, today is my first day there. I can't be late."

She scooted past me and headed to her bathroom. And then turned around and came back. "What did you want anyway, Morelli? Huh?"

At that moment her phone rang, and we both stopped and stared at each other. It was as if she didn't want to answer in front of me. Hmm. Wonder what that was telling me. She stood and refused to move toward it, looking at it as if it would bite her. Then she made a mad dash at the phone and turned her back to me.

I shrugged my shoulders in defeat. "Whatever, Steph," I said, as she glanced my way with a slightly guilty look on her face as she pressed on the phone. "We'll finish this later."

Xxxxxxx

Saved by the bell, for real! I glanced down at the readout on the phone. I would have happily taken a call from my mother at that point. I breathed a sigh of relief however, when I realized it was only Marylou. Again. She obviously hadn't gotten any more dirt on me overnight and was determined to figure out what was up in my crazy world.

"Mare," I said, glancing at Joe's ass as he made a hasty retreat. Nice ass. Too bad he had to be such a jerk.

"Ooh Girl, this is gonna be big. Damn big. Bigger than Big Bird's boxer shorts, it's so big!"

_What_? Shit, she really needs to get out and spend some time away from Sesame Street, I thought, as I tried to turn my attention back to her frenetic carrying on. Whatever 'It' was, it was big, apparently. And possibly yellow?? Ouch, my head hurt just trying to figure out _where_ she was going with this. I looked at the clock.

"Shit. Gotta run Mare, what's really up, huh?"

"The story is that Joe went a couple rounds last night with Gaspick, because Gaspick claimed he heard on the street you were stepping out on him. Broke the guy's nose! He almost got suspended, but somehow he convinced Juniak that he was stable enough to stay on duty! What the hell is going on Steph?"

I sat down heavily on my bed. "Oh, fuck," I whispered into the phone.


	13. Ain't Too Proud to Beg2

Ain't Too Proud to Beg

I know you wanna leave me,   
But I refuse to let you go  
If I have to beg and plead for your sympathy,  
I don't mind coz' you mean that much to me

Ain't too proud to beg, sweet darlin  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go  
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby  
Please don't leave me, girl, don't you go

Now I heard a cryin' man,  
Is half a man with no sense of pride  
But if I have to cry to keep you,  
I don't mind weepin' if it'll keep you by my side

Ain't to proud to beg, sweet darlin  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go  
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go

If I have to sleep on your doorstep  
All night and day just to keep you from walkin' away  
Let your friends laugh, even this I can stand  
Because I want to keep you any way I can

Ain't too proud to beg, sweet darlin'  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go  
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go

Now I've gotta love so deep in the pit of my heart  
And each day it grows more and more  
I'm not ashamed to come and plead to you baby  
If pleadin' keeps you from walkin' out that door

Ain't too proud to beg, you know it sweet darlin'  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go  
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby  
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go  
Baby, baby, baby, baby (sweet darling)

The Temptations.

I continued up the stairs, shaking my head. That car. Damn. I know I know it. I rubbed my eyes once more. What a night. As if it wasn't busy enough collecting the scum of the earth, I had to handle all the bullshit with every phone call about Stephanie and some dude in the bookstore putting on a show. Damn that woman. Has she no sense at all? And then upon hearing this, I felt compelled to keep pointing out, if only to appease my male pride; that we were indeed in the middle of a time out. Who the fuck wants to admit that their girlfriend is two-timing them? Shit.

My knuckles were poised on the door, but then I remembered she had been bitching about the hour, so I pulled out the key I had had made way back when and let myself in. I glanced around, and once again couldn't understand why it was that it was so hard to convince her to move in with me permanently. This place had all the warmth and hominess of a prison cell. I took a quick step to the right to avoid a pile of Macy's bags dumped on the floor near the hallway, and quietly walked to her door. True to her word, she was flat out on the bed, asleep.

I sat on the edge of the bed and she groaned and rolled over, opening one eye just the smallest bit. She grunted at me something about sleep being sacred and pulled the blankets out of my hand and back over her head. Through the layers of fabric I thought I heard her mutter "Whaddya want Morelli?"

I looked over at the lump in the bed, and I saw her knee sticking out. Fuck, her thigh was bare, and I could imagine my hand running along it. I had to grab my one hand with the other to avoid reaching out.

"Awh, Cupcake, come on. The boys miss ya," I finally groaned. "Shit. This back and forth crap, we're dating, we're not, we're dating, it's killing me cupcake." I bent over and nuzzled the cover, searching out her face. I knew how to convince her. If she just gave me the sign, just the smallest encouragement I'd be back in her bed. And once I got _there_, I'd be back in her good graces.

She pulled away like she was still pissed. No, she just still wants to sleep, I told myself. She's gotta be getting lonely herself. I knew her sex drive. And while we weren't always on the same page about a lotta shit; damn that had never been an issue. I rolled off her and plunked myself down on the pillow next to hers.

"You change laundry detergents?" I whispered into her ear.

"Huhn?" She pulled the cover from over her face and looked at me weirdly.

"The pillow, it smells different." She got the look of a frightened animal in her eyes for a minute, and then plopped back down and pulled the covers up again. "Go away, Morelli," she growled.

Fuck, she's touchy. "Back off Steph, just asking."

I lay there for a while. She made no effort to talk, and neither did I. She had probably fallen back asleep and wasn't even aware I was here, I considered ruefully. I decided to send out an exploratory hand. If I got no response, or at least if the response I got was affirmative, maybe I could just fix this now. My mind kept going over all the phone calls. One call, I would chalk it up to nosiness. Busy-bodied burg manners, if you could believe it, would force someone to share such information. But getting virtually the same call five times in one night, from such a variety of sources, well it really put truth on the side of the information. And that scared me.

I knew Steph was a flighty thing. And I also knew we belonged together. It was just the getting there that seemed to be so difficult. Hell, I was a catch; I knew that. It's not false pride. I hear it from people all the time. Why should I act like I don't know it? I knew she loved me too. But I was a bit more than nervous to tell you the truth, about the idea of competition. I shouldn't be, right? I mean, I've known her all her life. She did it with me first. I'll always have a place at the top of the list.

But sometimes she made me crazy. She didn't have any real ambition. Or desire. Or something. Most girls, you date them more than a few times and they start wanting to change the curtains in the kitchen and they make sure to leave jewelry ads out on the table, accidentally. They start talking about their cousin's wedding or baby or house. You know, leaving hints that they wished it was them. That slightly envious and obviously carefully orchestrated shit to drop boulder sized hints about a future. Yeah, it sucked. I hated it with other women. And I missed it with Steph. It seemed if I made comments about the future she froze up and just stopped being her.

I began to slide my hand across her stomach while I was thinking. Damn what she does to me. I was getting all ready for action just thinking about touching her. And then she smacked my hand down. "Guess you are awake then, huh?" I laughed at her and sat back up.

"What time is it anyway?" she growled.

I looked at her clock. "Just after 7."

"Shit. I have to get up; it's my first day at my new job!!!" She jumped like I had smacked her.

"Your new job?"

"Yeah, I thought I told you? My cousin Vinnie, he needs a person to run his front desk. I told you, I know I did. Anyway, today is my first day there. I can't be late."

She scooted past me and headed to her bathroom. And then turned around and came back. "What did you want anyway, Morelli? Huh?"

At that moment her phone rang, and we both stopped and stared at each other. It was as if she didn't want to answer in front of me. Hmm. Wonder what that was telling me. She stood and refused to move toward it, looking at it as if it would bite her. Then she made a mad dash at the phone and turned her back to me.

I shrugged my shoulders in defeat. "Whatever, Steph," I said, as she glanced my way with a slightly guilty look on her face as she pressed on the phone. "We'll finish this later."

Xxxxxxx

Saved by the bell, for real! I glanced down at the readout on the phone. I would have happily taken a call from my mother at that point. I breathed a sigh of relief however, when I realized it was only Marylou. Again. She obviously hadn't gotten any more dirt on me overnight and was determined to figure out what was up in my crazy world.

"Mare," I said, glancing at Joe's ass as he made a hasty retreat. Nice ass. Too bad he had to be such a jerk.

"Ooh Girl, this is gonna be big. Damn big. Bigger than Big Bird's boxer shorts, it's so big!"

_What_? Shit, she really needs to get out and spend some time away from Sesame Street, I thought, as I tried to turn my attention back to her frenetic carrying on. Whatever 'It' was, it was big, apparently. And possibly yellow?? Ouch, my head hurt just trying to figure out _where_ she was going with this. I looked at the clock.

"Shit. Gotta run Mare, what's really up, huh?"

"The story is that Joe went a couple rounds last night with Gaspick, because Gaspick claimed he heard on the street you were stepping out on him. Broke the guy's nose! He almost got suspended, but somehow he convinced Juniak that he was stable enough to stay on duty! What the hell is going on Steph?"

I sat down heavily on my bed. "Oh, fuck," I whispered into the phone.

I set my cell phone down on the desk with a thud. Things couldn't get worse if I tried. Oh to toss all these freaking busy-bodied, perfect-lived women into a violently flowing river and watch them crash upon the rocks, screeching for dear life. See if it's all that important _then_ if Joe punched Gaspick or I kissed another man, 'ruining' my life, and my reputation.

I put my head down into my hands and sighed. Thirty-seven messages on my cell since Joe left this morning. Every flipping busybody in the god-damned Burg had called, trying to remind me of what a catch Joe was and how much of a fuck up I was being. 'With friends like these,' I thought. And then thanked the gods they weren't really my friends!

Katrina Brubaker called me. She has never stopped carrying on since the sixth grade about how handsome Joe is. Well, look what she married! Arnie Brubaker is barely 5'6", and balding at 32!!!!Huh. Dee Dee Timotski, who shouldn't even be considered Burg, since she moved here from West Virginia (Donna Darla? WTF were her parents _thinking_?) when she was 11, had the nerve to suggest that the surest proof of Joe's love is his desire to smother me and want me to grow old in his kitchen. Well, hell, Dee Dee, if you think manual labor for the rest of your born days is true love, have at it!

MarciJo Casertano left a message that she had no idea who that _dark_ scary man was that she heard I was making out with, but was appalled that she would kiss anyone other than Joe, because Joe comes from a good family and is a strong, moral man. And Steph, _we _don't do _things_ like that! Well! MarciJo, you are welcome to sit in for me at Thanksgiving at the Morelli table, 'k? Yikes.

Lucretia Phillips had the nerve to call and tell me that she couldn't believe that I would step out on Joe!!! Joe would never do something like that, he is too good, too honest a man and to think you would treat him so foully!! Well, Lu_cretia. _Recall the month that _you_ were hanging off Joe's arm in 11th grade? Joe was still seeing Terri. And shit, the night he met me in the Tasty Pastry, he was still seeing Terri. So. Yeah. Whatever, Lu_cretia_.

Belynda Derevjanik, who hasn't had a date with anyone since junior year in high school, had the nerve to call and leave a message telling me that I was a failure and an embarrassment because –'Stephanie. You need to grow up. Honestly. You aren't getting any younger. There are so few good men out there still single. And to think that Joe Morelli; why, Joe, is the most wonderful man, why he hasn't been snapped up? Do you think he's going to wait on you forever?' Well, hell, Belinda, Belynda -- however you spell your name-- looks like failure has friends! When was the last time YOU had two hot guys chasing after your fat ass? And if you think Joe is God, then go worship at his altar, ok?? Yeesh!

And the list went on. Call after call; I could barely even scrounge up faces for some of these women, they were such _good_ friends! Oh damn it, I am feeling as incredibly juvenile and petty as they were in sixth grade! And its fun, I giggled to myself. Well, for about 12 minutes. Then all I could think of was how freaking cliquey and petty they had been back then. It's obvious that they have yet to grow up!

But really, too bad I didn't know of any good roiling rivers. I recalled hearing once that Joe's older brother almost drowned when he drove his beater of a pickup truck through a security fence and into Lafayette Pond, just outside Trenton, near Make-Out Point. No one had any idea it was 20 feet deep!!! They pulled him out but left the pick-up at the bottom is the story I was told. Bet I could hide a bunch of busybodies there too.

I was distracted from my enjoyable fantasy by the desk phone. Well, gotta get back to work, Plum. I encouraged myself to paste a smile to my face as I reached for the phone. This bond business wasn't all that difficult. "Plum Bond Agency" I proclaimed, the pasted on smile possibly making it come out a bit too chipper for what we apparently did here, which was get 'innocent' people out of jail for a price. Or at least that was what my cousin Vinnie told me. I was somewhat unsure about this career change. After all, I usually spent about 35 minutes a year around Vinnie. My father never seemed all that interested in having a closer relationship than that. But dad, he encouraged me to give this a try. That was my dad for ya!

I looked at the clock on the wall longingly. It was only 3:45 PM. It was a pretty boring job, I had already decided. Maybe tomorrow I would bring my nail polish with me. Vinnie had left me alone here right after lunch. He gave me a pager number and cell phone number and told me to call him if it was dire; otherwise he was not to be disturbed. He said something about volunteering at the zoo on Wednesdays.

I took a message for him and hung up the phone. I continued to embellish the doodle that I had started on my note pad earlier in the day. I squinted my eyes and was startled to see that I had subconsciously been writing Carlos all over the paper! I put my head into my hands again, thinking of last night, of this morning. And shit, how close it had been that Joe figured out something!! My brain rewound to the scent that Carlos wore, that indescribable scent that I had burrowed my face into as I curled against him, my face pressed against his neck. I took a deep breath and could still feel the warmth of his skin, hear his steady breathing, and smell his essence as we slept curled together.

And Joe noticed it on my pillow! I would have been so screwed had I let him embrace me. I was loathe to even shower this morning, because I didn't want to wash away the one physical proof I had that last night wasn't a dream. Oh. Carlos. I don't even know how to reach him. What was I going to do?? What was Carlos going to do next? I mean, I wasn't technically dating Joe any longer. Although technically hadn't broken up either. But I felt like that was the ultimate direction that I had been trying to guide our 'relationship' toward. Joe was just so… so _Burg_! So Ellen Plum, so Valerie. Even so Marylou to a degree. They all got off on pot roasts and new vacuum cleaners as birthday gifts. And that was so _not _me. But Joe's been fixated on me since I was six. It was probably not going to be easy. I needed a Marylou chat.

I glanced at the clock again. The boys were probably still outside playing after school. I picked up my cell and called her.

"Stephanie!" she screeched into my ear as she picked up on her end. "What the heck is going on?? Don't you know I can't defend you if I don't have the dirt??"

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "I know, Mare, I know. That's why I'm calling."

"Ok, good, so exactly whose face were you sucking off in the kids section of the bookstore? Steph??"

"Mare…it was Carlos."

"Carlos? Who—oh, Carlos. Carlos?? How'd he find you? Oh my god Steph!!!!"

Ten minutes later, I still hadn't made any sense of my life, but it sure felt good sharing. Marylou was the one person who would always understand. We were deeply involved in trying to analyze Carlos's calling me 'Babe' in front of that Elizabeth woman. She was positive he was indicating to her that I was his! And that she was over. That must suck. I tried to find some sympathy for her but I was too wound tight over Marylou's positive assertion to make it stick. My heart felt like bouncing!

"Aw, Mare, hang on. The phone's ringing." I put her on hold, and picked up the office phone.

"Plum Bond Agency," I stated, mind totally on Carlos.

"Vincent Plum, please."

"I'm sorry, he's unavailable. May I take a message?"

"I need to reach him."

"Uh, hmm. If you can give me your name and number, I can have him call when he returns to the office?"

"Get me Plum!"

"Sir, what can I do for you?"

"What's your name?"

"Me, huh? I'm Stephanie. Sir, if you give me your name and number…"

"Plum is supposed to be available to me at any hour of the day or night. Get him for me!"

"Yes, sir. Can I have your name?"

"Antonio De Fazio. He knows how to reach me."

"Sir, what can I tell him this is in reference to?"

"Look, Stephanie was it? Where is Connie? She never gives me this run-around."

"Um, I'm sorry. She's out on leave".

"Well find Plum and tell him to get his ass to the precinct and bail Carlos Manoso out. NOW. I'm stuck in Albany for three days and can't do it."

I was too dazed to respond, but it didn't make a difference as Mr. DeFazio had already hung up on me. I sat at the desk the phone in my hand, staring at it. Was Joe right?

My cell beeped to remind me I had a call holding. I put the desk phone back in its cradle with a shaking hand. "Uh. Mare? Yeah, I uhm, I need to call you back, ok?" I didn't wait for a response. I dropped the paper with Vinnie's phone number on it three times I was shaking so hard. Oh my god. Carlos was in jail.


	14. Aint Too Proud to Beg3

THE BIG CHILL  
ALIASLACEYGREEN

Aint Too Proud to Beg, Part 3

_don't_ _own 'em, only playin'_

I was slowly losing my cool. I should have been out of here already. Fuck. I hit what passed as a pillow once with my fist. Anyone looking on probably wouldn't realize the level of frustration I was expressing in that action, but Tonio was gonna get his ass whipped the next time we met up to spar.

I stood and again paced the length of the holding cell. Having apparently wasted my one call on my lawyer, it now looked like I would be here for the night. I glanced down the cellblock toward the window at the far end. While it couldn't be much later than 5pm, it got dark early now. But I called him at 1400! He must be out of town. Shit. He's supposed to have a local shop set up to bond me out; that means he may not have even gotten my message. Fucking great.

I sat down again on the bunk, leaned my head back against the cell wall and closed my eyes. I willed myself into cooling down. No sense in even worrying over it. I either spent the night or I didn't. I was still aggravated that I had been picked up. I normally gave DeFazio a heads up that I was going to get busted; it made the whole bail process that much faster. How the fuck had I ended up in today's takedown anyway? I had gotten sloppy somewhere, because it shouldn't have happened. It wouldn't have happened if I had been paying attention to the job.

Julie would be upset that I didn't come home to tuck her into bed. Once again, I thought about how poorly suited I was for parenthood. I had to assume that Ella would be there for Julie. Thank god for Ella. If it were anyone but Ella taking care of Julie, I might have given in to Rachel's sister and given her custody when she came to me back in the spring looking to take Julie back to Florida.

It probably would have been the right thing to do; but selfishly, I wanted to keep my daughter. I didn't understand how it was that Julie loved me as she did; but for some reason, despite my flaws, she did. Her Aunt Michelle agreed to drop the matter for the time being; but I had agreed to allow Julie to spend a few weeks in Florida during the summer. She had enjoyed her time there. Since Michelle had taken Julie's half-brother Xavier into her home permanently, I felt compelled to allow her to spend time there. She came home from her visit with her brother incredibly excited to have spent time with him. And when she came home she was also fixated on the idea of babies, and mommies and families.

I recalled the endless pestering she had started up when I started spending time with Elizabeth. Julie desperately wanted to be like all the other girls. She wanted to fit in. She wanted a family. And I could recall the same feelings when I was young and newly living with my sister. I wanted more than anything to be like everyone else. I wanted to be able to wave to my mother from the stage in the school auditorium; I wanted to look onto the sidelines of the ball field and see my dad cheering me on. Julie wanted no more than I had wanted. And I didn't get my wish; and Elizabeth is past, I reminded myself.

And that lead me to Stephanie Plum. I scrubbed my face with the heels of my hands and allowed myself an audible groan, since there was no one in the cell with me to witness my little breakdown. I thought about how her fingers had felt running through my hair last night. How even in the middle of a moonless night, even with the only illumination in her room being the lights from the parking lot, how she still smelled like the sunshine. Her softness curled into my embrace. The steady breath of her sleeping by my side, it had been like the strongest narcotic I had ever tried.

I opened my eyes to look out onto the sterile blankness of the cell blocks. This is why I didn't do relationships, I reminded myself. What Elizabeth and I had; that had worked. It wasn't real, but to others it passed as such. And while I was with her it was good and when I left, I didn't leave part of me behind. I should have but couldn't give up Julie; she had woven herself too completely into a heart I didn't realize I had.

I was going to have to stay away from Stephanie Plum; I couldn't allow myself to get drawn into her orbit as well. I was sitting here, locked up because my mind had not been 100 on the job. Because I had allowed myself to get lost in the memory of her embrace last night, lost in the thoughts of how she made me feel.

She hadn't seemed shocked, nervous or upset that she woke to find me sitting on the side of her bed. She accepted the fact that I was there with aplomb, and opened her arms to me. The darkness of the room suited me. The street ligh cast a faint beam onto her face, gently outlining the curves of her face, the rounded edges of her body under the blanket.

I pulled her into my arms, and kissing her forehead gently I spoke to her of all the nights, all the years of longing, of wishing things had gone differently. How many times it was just her face in my mind that had saved me from falling off the edge of reality and into the black abyss of hatred and horror that was life in wartime.

Her lips were on my neck, soft and sweet and tasting me; and my hands traveled along the planes of her body, memorizing the feel of her. I was sure this was a dream, and in the light of day I would once again awaken alone.

She didn't question me; she didn't bother me about my life. She just accepted the truth of my kisses, of the reality of the weight of my body covering hers. God she felt like heaven. Her hands had found their way under my T-shirt, and I let go of her reluctantly to undress. As I removed my shirt, her fingers found my bare skin and began a dance along the ridges of my muscles that set me on edge. I bent down to her then and took full advantage of her lips. Heaven.

I wasn't a poet; I wasn't a romantic man. But Stephanie Plum made me believe. Her arms surrounded me; pulled me closer to her than I had ever dreamed would happen. I hesitated; hand on the top button of my cargos, waiting for her to give me permission. I wanted to feel her skin, I wanted to wrap her around me, but yesterday I thought she was happily married; yesterday she didn't know a thing about my current life. I shouldn't press this too quickly but I needed to feel her. She looked into my eyes, and with a shy smile, reached her hand toward mine.

I quickly shucked my boots and my cargos. I lifted the blanket and slid quietly into the bed, and pulled her to me. Things ratcheted out of control pretty quickly. I was using every ounce of my restraint to stop myself from stripping her and plunging into her savagely. I felt like a wild animal. I needed to put some thought into this. This needed to stop. She wasn't a quick lay!

"Babe," I spoke then, into her belly button, looking up at her from where I lay between her legs. My fingers continued to play with her clit while I spoke. I was on a fool's errand, there's no getting around it. I was trying to convince myself that this had to stop, while I watched her face as I sent her spiraling with my fingertips. Fuck.

"Carlos, please, don't stop." She looked at me with perfect understanding.

She was mine, and I was hers and there was no other way around it. I pulled her close to me after I made her cum, holding her against me, letting her feel how hard I was, how good she made me feel. Her breath was still labored, her chest heaving against me. I rolled her under me then and took her breast in my mouth, my hand palming the other as I pressed the tip of me against her. I was poised and ready. I needed to be inside her, but instead I fell back onto the bed next to her, breathing heavily. Condoms. I didn't have any condoms. Shit.

I tried to slow my breathing, to steady myself, to allow myself to find the control I would need to stop. I ran my hands through my hair, almost desperate enough to allow myself to ask if she had any, but knowing better. I had learned from a long list of guys caught in the moment, not to trust a woman with condoms. One pin prick and it was over. I knew that wasn't the case with Rachel; she was really young, and…. And. Well, I had always convinced myself that it wasn't that way. But I knew too many guys who swore it was just the one time, and they used a rubber, yet they were still paying child support.

"Carlos?" Stephanie leaned up on her elbow and ran her finger along my abs. "What's wrong?"

I pulled her onto me, cradling her in my arms. "We can wait, babe."

"Why? I want to make you feel like you made me feel," she whispered into my neck.

"Babe," I groaned.

"It was incredible." I could feel her smile.

"Babe."

"I want you, Carlos."

"I want you too."

"They why?"

"I didn't bring condoms."

She was quiet for a moment. Then two. "I have some," she finally offered, her voice small, knowing I would say no to her. Oh god I want to agree. I want to take them. No! this is exactly how things get fucked, I reminded myself.

"Its ok, I'm not leaving this time."

She looked at me then, the dim street light not allowing her full view of my face, and she nodded her head slowly.

"Sleep, babe. Let me hold you." I pulled her to me, my erection straining against her ass, and I wrapped my arm around her neck, fitting our bodies together. I was going to die like this. I would burst holding her, her body hot and her heart pounding in her chest against me. I slowly controlled my breathing, and finally was able to relax a bit, gently nibbling and kissing the back of her neck, the edge of her ear. I ran my fingers along her hip, her stomach, in a slow, rhythmic motion, designed not to arouse but to relax. After a short time her breathing changed and I knew she had fallen asleep.

I slipped out of the bed, and grabbing my boxers looked for her bathroom. I needed a cold shower.

I opened my eyes again and looked down at my Nikes. Fucking gang banger outfit that I was dressed in; I looked ridiculous. Other than Santa Claus, who the hell dresses in red? The black laces that I had so carefully laced in the proper manner had been taken away from me before being dumped into the holding cell. Just like the belt that held my three sizes too large black with red accent COOGI jeans. Despite the fact that I was a walking advertisement for the Bloods gang, I was not asked to change out of my red and black striped Sean John hoodie. I still had my gold and diamond studs in my ears, but they had taken my gold chains. My hair was hanging long and loose, my ECKO baseball cap sitting on the bunk beside me.

I picked it up and ran my fingers around the edges, mindless of my movement. My head couldn't get out of Steph's bed. She had awakened and still been glad to see me. We never talked last night, I realized. We had spoken, but we never did really get into anything important. We just _were_ last night and that had been it. I didn't know how she really had spent the last 6 years. I didn't talk to her about being a Ranger, or my company, or even my daughter. We were so caught up in touching each other we hadn't even spoken. I didn't know a thing about her. Shit, Manoso, stop! What was holding DeFazio up?

I put the cap back down. Fussing with it was a nervous habit. I knew better than to establish to anyone that I was getting frustrated. I laced my hands behind my head and leaned back again. Stephanie. She had soothed me for the past six years; she could do it now, while I waited. I thought again of her voice, the softness, and the shy hesitance when she suggested she had protection available….Fuck. I shot up from the bunk. A boyfriend! She has a fucking boyfriend. You are such a fool Manoso!

Xxxxxx

I wished I hadn't agreed to take on the night shift for Big Dog, but shit, he sounded like crap. I hated working the shop; I enjoyed being a cop, being out on the street, being involved in the takedown. This paperwork bullshit, the clerical crap, the actual dealing with the perps all day and all night? Not my bag of fun. But Big Dog's done for me many times, I owed him. Besides with Steph and I not talking still, what difference did it make? Working a double got me a bit of extra cash, and I could crash when I got home and not have to feel like I had missed anything.

I sorted through the files on the desk. There were eleven guys in the pens. At least half would have someone come get them out before midnight; the rest were gonna be bunking down. Three DWI's, two B&E, couple of domestic violence and some Bloods. Four of them. I briefly checked to be sure that they were spread out in the cell block and not together. Two Bloods together and shit could get nasty fast. The sad thing was I recognized the name of at least five of the guys down there. I've been at this too long.

My brief scan of the list showed the name Manoso. Hmm, someone else tagged him?? And he was still here. Interesting. He usually was cut loose quickly….Manoso. Shit. I slammed my hand onto the desk. That fucking prick! He owned a black sports car. He had long hair and dark skin, and he--- She didn't really let him spend the night!

God damn it Stephanie! She didn't really, did she? Fuck. But, she had carried on the other night about how they used to be an item. Where they? Or was it just they knew each other? I guess I should have paid a bit of attention to what she was saying. I just recalled her going on about him. And a black sports car in the senior's parking lot? Fuck!

What the hell could I do to get her to see that he was at best a small time jerk and at worst, a gang leader wanna-be?? She'd prefer his company to mine? God damn it all to hell!

At that moment my phone buzzed. "Someone's here to bond out a Carlos Manoso," the voice came over the speaker.

"Got it." I pressed the button on the phone and stood up. God damn Carlos-fucking-'Ranger'-Manoso. He was really getting on my bad side.

I strode to the end of the cell block and pulled out the key to his door. "Ride's here, Manoso," I sneered at him as I opened the door. He looked up at me with those fucking blanked-out eyes of his and stood slowly, deliberately, like he didn't have a worry in the world. As he passed by me leaving the cell, he nodded his head incrementally and stated, "Officer."

God, I wanted to ram my fist into his stomach! We didn't say another word until we reached the gate. I buzzed the lock and someone unlocked us, and he stood to the side, allowing me to go first. I was getting really riled by now. He touched Stephanie. He had kissed her? Fucked her?? It was all I could do to not wring his neck.

He knew the drill, having done it before, so he turned to the left and walked toward the door where his lawyer would be waiting. I stepped back and watched him walk, back straight toward freedom; no hint of street thug in his stride. My mind began to gather disjointed bits of information about him.

He was acting! I knew he was. I could see it now; now that I was paying attention. He never put up a fight; but he was always where the action was. Out on the street, when I would take him down, he was all swagger and ghetto homeboy bullshit till we got in the blue and white. Then he sat back quietly. He was putting on a show for the other gang members. Watching him walk away from me just now? Hell, I'd done a tour in the Navy; I could see the military in his step. He was undercover, deep undercover, or I wasn't a detective. Shit!

My thoughts were distracted by the sudden change in his demeanor as he walked through the door. I swore I saw hesitation; his shoulders dropped the slightest bit before he continued onto the other side. I stepped through the door as well, and suddenly understood what had caused his wavering. Because it wasn't his lawyer standing at the desk, but Vinnie Plum. And Stephanie.


	15. Chapter 15

THE BIG CHILL  
ALIASLACEYGREEN

Aint Too Proud to Beg, Part 4

_don't_ _own 'em, only playin'_

My mind had been wandering to a variety of different places, none of them productive, when Officer Morelli came to cut me loose. I don't know exactly what it was about him, but the guy really set me off. Probably the fact he thinks you're scum, Manoso, I thought. After all, _I_ knew we were on the same side, but he didn't. And he was a good cop; I could see that. He did his job well, but didn't ever cross that line that would have anyone come down on him. Why he ticked me off I really didn't know. I didn't need his approval, but somehow, he always seemed to irritate me.

The moment he put the key in the gate it was as if we both were reminded of some perceived slight. I always tried to stay in character; shit, these guys were professionals. But my personal style wasn't homeboy, and today my mind was on Stephanie. As I turned the corner at the end of the corridor I suddenly saw in his eyes some kind of light, some recognition. Shit. I think I've been made, I realized a little too late. I stepped through the door and I didn't need to act any longer. I felt as if I had been sucker-punched.

I quickly blanked my face however and turned my eyes away from Stephanie; away from the look of confusion I noted in her eyes and toward the man by her side. I was not about to allow any hesitation to show. And I was just this side of distraught that Stephanie saw me behind bars, dressed up like a street thug. What was she doing here?

I walked with confidence toward the man as he put out his hand in greeting through the bars. "Manoso? I'm Vincent Plum. Your lawyer has me on retainer—." I stopped him from saying any more by grabbing his hand and thanking him for coming. I had to begin to wonder about DeFazio, finding this creep to be my local Bondsman.

Plum? Please don't tell me that this is her father! My mind was having a hard time latching onto the information that I should be processing. It was as if Stephanie being in the room was intercepting my receiver. I was jumbled and probably as close to tongue-tied and confused as I had ever been. Damn what that woman does to me.

I knew that Morelli was still behind me. I was watching Steph from the corner of my eye. Morelli had walked up to her, and she took a step back nervously; the prison bars not seeming to be enough to separate them. He unlocked the gate and stepped through; pulling it shut a little emphatically as he stepped toward her.

"Joe. What are you doing inside tonight?" I noted quickly that her demeanor had changed as she spoke to him. He stood closer to her than would be sensible in a professional situation. Her voice had a higher pitch. She seemed timid in front of him. It dawned on me then. Morelli had been at the train accident too. This was her boyfriend! God damn it all to hell. I clenched my teeth and turned my attention back towards this peculiar Plum man. What a cluster-fuck.

I began filling out the paperwork with Plum that cut me free on bond, silently shaking my head when I saw the dollar amount that had been set on my head this time. Fuck. He had looked me up and down while we were taking care of business, obviously trying to decide if he had made a mistake in taking on my bond. Jerk. He's getting a hefty penny every month just for being available to me! I didn't like him. And why was Stephanie here with him?

"Steph! Get over here and earn your paycheck, will you," he loudly stated and she jumped back away from the corner where she seemed to be having an animated but uncomfortable conversation with Morelli. She looked at me briefly, but didn't acknowledge she knew me.

"Mr. Manoso, I apologize for my assistant here. It's her first day and she doesn't seem to know the difference between work and play," Vincent said to me with a leer in his eye as he looked over at where Morelli was cooling his heels. I was about to make some serious noise. Who did this guy think he was, talking about Stephanie like that?

Then she looked at him and gave him the finger! I couldn't hold back a laugh at her action, and quietly whispered "Babe," shaking my head incrementally. She heard me though, because her face turned a lovely shade of crimson and her eyes lit up at my acknowledgement.

"Vinnie, be nice," she grumbled under her breath. Hmm. That sounded like a threat. Interesting. "Vinnie is my older pervert cousin," she said brightly to me, looking my way. She was addressing me. "I just started at his Bond Agency today, and he wants to make sure I know what I'm doing, so he can get his 'out of the office' time," she continued with an obviously fake smile. Damn, she was playing hardball with this guy. She could certainly handle herself. I was impressed. She didn't acknowledge however that she had any idea who I was, so I played along. She seemed to know what she was doing.

Morelli stood off in the corner while Plum showed her the ropes. When I was finally released, he walked over and unlocked the final gates that were separating us, and I found myself with Stephanie on one side of me and Morelli on the other. I turned my back to Morelli to retrieve my personal belongings that were set out on the table with Plum, and Stephanie was right there in front of me suddenly. I couldn't look away from her piercing gaze. Her eyes met mine head on. I stared back at her, and tried to find somewhere in her face censure, hatred, disgust. But I saw only confidence, belief, trust.

I felt a weight in my chest ease as she continued to look at me. She didn't speak as she handed me my stupid gold chains and wallet. I let my fingers graze over hers as I took them from her.

"Friday," I stated quietly. Please don't turn away from me I silently begged. Plum had gathered his papers and had stood, ready to go. Morelli had the door, and I followed Plum and Stephanie into the hallway.

So softly that only I could hear her, she responded, "7 pm," before Morelli put out his hand and touched her arm. "Cupcake, can I see you a minute?" he asked her. Cupcake?

"Mr. Plum, thanks for coming down," I said, offering my hand to him as we stood on the front steps of the police station. "Call me Vinnie. You need a lift anywhere?" he asked. I held up my cell phone in response. Tank was already on the way. I didn't think I was willing to get in a car with him.

I glanced back to the door, hoping against hope that Steph would come out, that I could speak with her. But it seems she was occupied being Morelli's Cupcake. Fuck. She didn't say she was involved last night. I am no good with this relationship crap. I shook my head trying to clear it. I was going down. I was lost in Stephanie's world. Losing focus, losing the ability to even think clearly. I closed my eyes, trying to re-group, and the only thing that happened was piercing blue eyes were staring at me unwavering in my mind.

One blue-eyed little white girl was doing a fine job twisting my world into a knot. 'A minute ago this was the safest job in the world. Now it's turned into a bad day in Bosnia.' I could hear my commander muttering his favorite phrase when the shit was about to hit the fan. Today, I finally gained a true understanding of what he was trying to say.


	16. Chapter 16

The Big Chill

Ain't Too Proud To Beg, 5

Aliaslaceygreen

I glanced at the clock on the microwave again. 6:49. Stop it Stephanie! He's going to come. He _will_ show up. I was sitting on the edge of the couch, ready and waiting for my date with Carlos. Ready--actually READY for a date eleven minutes early! And look what it got me. I was a bundle of nerves. I smoothed my hands down my thighs, pressing out imaginary wrinkles in the shimmery blue fabric of my dress. I had spent the better part of the afternoon primping, after convincing Vinnie to let me leave at 3 o'clock.

I went through my preparations in my head; did I forget anything? I had spent a long time in the shower, the steamy hot water calming my nerves while I made sure every inch of me was smooth and supple. I had been careful to ensure that every bit of my skin had been slathered in scented lotion, and that my hair looked perfect. I was somewhat astonished at what I had been able to accomplish on that front. Normally my hair had a mind of its own, but tonight was a different story. I ran my hand gently along the top of my head and I didn't feel a curl out of place. Wow. A little La Dolce Vita behind my ears; I had painted my toenails; I even remembered the earrings that matched the sapphire necklace which I had chosen.

But none of those preparations were anything in comparison to the energy I had expended the past 48 hours, trying to decide what exactly was going on with Carlos. What I was going to do about my Carlos problem. No. Not 'problem'. Stop it! Don't let Joe in your head!

I put my head gingerly back on the edge of the couch and closed my eyes, thinking about the past few days. Carlos hadn't seemed at all shocked or even concerned that I came to bail him out of jail. He had averted his eyes, true. But when he did look at me, he was still the Carlos I knew, not some criminal. I didn't even think of another answer when he reminded me of our date. I had been waiting for six years.

Six years. Yikes. After I got home that night I had a mini breakdown. I couldn't believe my life. I had just agreed to dinner with a virtual stranger, standing inside a jail! At that point fact that he was my destiny seemed secondary. My mother was going to die of embarrassment if she ever found out!

Marylou helped me get my head together. In honesty, I don't think I would be waiting for him right now if she hadn't convinced me it was the right thing to do. Go figure. Mrs. 'Burg-in-training' was always in my corner. God, I was lucky to have her for a friend. And damn, the Burg was in for a surprise some day when they handed her the crown.

I had come home Wednesday night, absolutely shaken by the day. Who knew being in the front office of a Bail agency would have my heart racing so.

I had hung up the phone after taking the lawyer's number and I called Vinnie. I could barely even tell him what was going on; my head was spinning so fast. He wasn't concerned when I told him that this DeFazio person had called. It seemed he had an agreement with him to bond out all of his clients. I hung up the phone and turned toward the computer monitor. Using the program that Vinnie showed me, I found that DeFazio actually did do a lot of work with Vinnie. But I couldn't find Carlos' name in the system at all. I let loose a sigh of relief. Well at least that was something.

But my mind began to replay all the things that Joe had tried to tell me about Carlos, that I would not hear because he had to be wrong. By the time Vinnie had gotten back to the office I had worked myself into a state. I had no idea what papers needed to be printed, folders created; nothing. And my mind wasn't on learning either. Vinnie shocked the shit out of me when he told me I was tagging along with him so that I could learn what it was that happened during a bonding out.

Practicing some deep breathing exercises that were the only remnants of a horrid Yoga class I took with Mare years back, I had been able to walk into the station without making a fool of myself. I kept my eyes on Vinnie's back, refusing to look left or right; hoping against hope that Joe was off saving the world or at least the other side of Trenton. It would so not be good for Joe to see Carlos in jail again. It would mean he would carry on even more about him being a thug. That's what he had called him. A wanna-be gang leader? I had wracked my mind in the 30 minutes it took for Vinnie to collect me. What could Carlos be in jail for?

Of course, my luck holding out as it always did, it seemed that Joe wasn't playing Superhero on Stark Street; no, he had been down in the cell block with Carlos! Fuck. All in all, it hadn't been too bad. I mean, no one could see my heart pounding, right? And Joe hadn't heard me talking to Carlos. Our eyes met when I gave him his personal belongings, our fingers barely touched and when they did I felt a rush of emotion run through me just being that close to him, even with the circumstances being what they were. I didn't hesitate a minute when he reminded me of Friday.

By the time I had made home on Wednesday however, my head was spinning. Joe had pulled me away after they had finished processing Carlos. The fact that we had been mostly _off _for the past month, not counting that slip-up last weekend where I ended up staying at his place one night, seemed to have escaped his mind. He felt compelled to rub my nose in the whole criminal element idea; how he didn't even want me coming down here to the station to visit him because it wasn't a nice place. What was I thinking, aligning myself with the likes of Vinnie, and do you see how your precious Carlos spends his time, cupcake? This is like his home away from home. He was being petty and crueler than I would have thought he could be.

He then tried to get me to sit and read Carlos' rap sheet, which somehow felt wrong. It felt like he shouldn't be showing it to me, like he could get himself in serious trouble. I kept thinking of how I couldn't find his name on any computer records yet Joe was trying to manhandle me into reading about all the ways he was bad for me. I finally just walked out. No, actually I slammed the door in his face, to the shock of all the officers hanging around out in the lobby. I was steaming. How dare he? But he had done what he had wanted to do, which was plant a seed of doubt.

Marylou was my voice of reason. And she convinced me that what I was doing was right. Go out with him. But make him come clean to you. And call me the moment you get to wherever he is taking you.

That way I know where you are. It will make me feel better, Steph! So I had my cell phone in my bag, ready to run into the powder room of wherever to check in with Marylou. If he showed up.

I was about to sit up and turn to look at the clock again when I heard someone outside my door. I took a deep breath, waiting for the knock, but it didn't come. My heart was racing. I couldn't see the front door from where I sat, and I didn't want to jump up and be waiting for a knock, either. That felt crazily optimistic; or desperate. So I sat. And the knock never came. I counted to ten, and then twenty with my eyes closed, listening to my heart pounding.

"Babe." I jumped off the couch totally shocked and I almost fell on my ass, but Carlos caught me. His hands were on my elbows, burning my skin with their touch. I placed the palm of one hand on his chest, trying to steady myself, and I looked up into his eyes. He was laughing at me! There were these little crinkles at the sides of his eyes, and I could see the tiniest curve of a smile playing about his lips.

My eyes couldn't leave those lips. I recalled how soft, how full they had been the other night, dancing and playing and tasting me.

"You need to be more aware of your surroundings," he stated, his low husky voice breathing close to my ear. One hand let go of me; lacing his fingers into my hand he pulled it to his lips and kissed my fingers. He pushed me slightly away from him then and ran his eyes up and down me, and I could see admiration or lust or something. His eyes burned darker as they returned to my face.

"Gorgeous, babe." He hadn't let go of my hand yet, and I didn't want him to anyway. It was like a life line. I could feel the heat of his body traveling through me from where we touched. He tugged me slightly toward the door and I snapped out of my daydream.

"Let me grab my bag," I told him as I turned back to the couch, trying to compose myself. I knew when I turned around again I was going to be lost in his eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut for a minute, trying to calm myself. He was devastating tonight. The shirt I had touched when I fell into him had been black silk, and it was warm to the touch, radiating the heat of his body. He had on a sports jacket of a rich, deep black as well, and it fit him like it was made for him. I exhaled slightly, realizing I hadn't over-dressed for the evening. He looked almost as formal as the night I had met him; that night he was in a tuxedo that just didn't seem rented. And when he was all dressed up like that, he looked positively edible. I smiled to myself, trying to allow one last nervous breath before turning to him and letting him lead the way.

I glanced at him again as he was driving. I didn't try to talk. I recalled how almost disastrous that had been all those years ago, when we were headed toward the beach. I just looked at him from the corner of my eye, silently smiling and just slightly astonished. I wanted to take the band from his pony-tail; I wanted to run my fingers through the silky strands of his hair. I wanted to drag my fingers slowly around the shell of his ear, trailing along the strong edge of his chin, letting the pads of my fingers caress his lips…

"See something you like, babe?" He snapped me out of my little fantasy with a smile that blinded. "We're here," he stated when I didn't respond. "I recall you liking Italian?" He nodded toward the restaurant.

Rossini's. Oh, fuck. I loved Rossini's. Rossini's is like a Burg celebrity. I didn't go there a lot; it was a bit outside of my financial level, but fuck! It's a Burg thing, and that means that everyone, and I mean everyone will know I went out on a date! With someone who is not Joseph Anthony Morelli. But you guys are off, I reminded myself. Off. As in not 'On'. Despite what Mom says, you don't _want _to marry Joe Morelli, remember?

The maitre d was at the door in a flash. Seemingly without words we were led to an alcove that I never even had known existed. It was towards the back of the room. Carlos indicated that I sit in the booth, and then he slid in next to me. From where we sat, we could see almost the entire room, but it felt hidden and intimate.

I had never been here on a Friday night. There was a pianist in the corner opposite us, playing soothing music, but my heart rate was accelerating and I was beginning to shake. I knew this wasn't a dream, it was reality and it was a good reality, but I couldn't calm down. Carlos was sitting next to me!

"Babe." Carlos' fingers reached out and took my hand. I shook my head trying to clear it, and I looked up at him again. Looking into his eyes, twin pools of blackness, and seeing nothing but honesty in his eyes, finally settled me.

"I don't know why I'm so stupid tonight," I smiled at him. I was finally able to control my breathing. "I guess I just still can't believe you are real. You know?"

"Babe."

"I uhm, I …I think I need to use the ladies room, can you excuse me?" I was blubbering at this point. I took his hand as he helped me out of the booth and felt that same jolt of electricity I always felt. He pulled me close to him and whispered "Hurry back," before letting me go.

I plopped myself down on the easy chair in the powder room, peeking under the stalls to see if I was alone. I pressed Marylou's number and when she answered, I blurted "He took me to Rossini's!!! Of all places. I'm acting like a numbnut, too. I can't stand up straight; I can't form a sentence. So help me god Mare he makes me stupid!"


	17. Chapter 17

The Big Chill

Not mine just playing…

Ain't Too Proud to Beg, part 6-7 The first part has been posted elsewhere, you may have read it.

Aliaslaceygreen

Xxxx

My eyes took in the details of the room despite the dim lighting. Intimate, candlelit. Romantic. Just what I was looking for tonight with Stephanie. I sensed however that she felt out of her element. I hope that this place wasn't too much for her. Then I shook my head slightly. No, fool. You know what's bothering her. She saw you behind bars a few nights back. She's involved with another man. She knows nothing of who you really are and she is just this side of terrified of you. I looked toward the restroom doors. She was probably in there trying to talk herself into coming back out here and confronting me.

I couldn't blame her. I was actually quite proud of the fact that I had arrived at her place and she was ready to go. I was prepared to have to beg to be heard after Wednesday. Fuck. The kind of shit I found myself in! Relationships. Who needs them?

I had done some digging the past few days. It seemed she was with Officer Joe Morelli, and then she wasn't with him, and then she was again. Odds were on that she'd end up married to the cop, living in the house he inherited from some spinster aunt, according to all my sources. She wasn't making it easy for the guy, though. I had to feel a small dose of sympathy for Morelli. I knew the boat he was in. This woman was intoxicating.

I had in all honesty, never experienced love. I knew lust. I knew bone-deep lust, and how off kilter and wild it could make me feel-- the overreaching power the idea of getting laid generated. What I was dealing with now was a whole different animal. It wasn't anything I could identify. And it was something that I could screw up irreparably. I didn't like the feeling too much either. I wasn't in my element. I definitely wasn't in control. I glanced around the room and took in the number of couples wrapped up in each other. People _want_ this? This gnawing, churning feeling? I closed my eyes, and tried to clear my head.

This was not going to be the easiest night I ever had. I needed to be honest. I had to answer the inevitable questions Steph had about my actions, my arrest. But I needed to be careful. Things were wrapping up nicely. I had taken on this contract job with the ATF as a kind of penance to Rachel, to Julie; but it had become something so much larger. Ron's dealing in Miami, and his and Rachel's eventual deaths when he tried to double-cross his superiors, had been the tip of an iceberg that we were still battling. I was about done with my part in it. Having made the decision to maintain my home base in Trenton, I needed to begin to establish a different reputation. The fool-hardy members of the Bloods were going to end up eating their young.

I didn't fear any long lasting repercussions for infiltrating their gang. But I did need to do some back-pedaling and get my name cleared at the Trenton PD for real. My disappearing rap sheet notwithstanding, I needed to develop a relationship with the right side of the law. RangeMan would need the police cooperation in order to grow and become successful.

Despite the fact that my mind was in overdrive, processing all the various steps required to become legitimate, I was aware the moment that Stephanie came back into the dining room. She lit the room up by her mere presence. I took the time to notice that she looked even better tonight than she had all those years ago when I had seen her in the ballroom, dancing in the dark. The dress she had chosen was blue, like that night. I wondered if that had been planned. This one however, skimmed her knees, and had a top to it that made me think of that Marilyn Monroe poster with the billowing skirt that Lester had hanging over his bed.

I was in for trouble I could tell. This woman could make dead men cum, isn't that what the old song said? I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, eyes not ever leaving her, and when she finally noticed my attention, she smiled and blushed. I stood then, and took her into my embrace. I slowly stepped us toward the pianist where there was a small dance floor. She looked at me in wonder as the strains of Strangers in the Night played softly in the darkness.

I pulled her to me, and she molded herself to my body. Her arms came around my neck and I stepped quietly in time to the music. She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed as we moved to the music, lost in the feeling of being together. It was like the dream we had shared, come true. We were there, alone-- nothing and no one distracting us from the connection we felt. It was as close to heaven as I would ever see, and I didn't want it to end, because I was unsure where the conversations tonight would lead us. If she was even interested in sticking around after my confessions, I still had to get around the fact she was seeing someone else.

That song ended, but the feeling of her in my arms was one I didn't want to lose so we continued swaying to the music, my hands running along her back, her fingers twirling into my ponytail. Suddenly, as if she sensed the unavoidability of the conversation, she pulled back from me slightly and looked into my eyes.

"Let's go sit," she said softly. I shook my head. I wasn't ready.

"Food," she stated.

She was still close enough to me that I heard her stomach growl. I raised my eyebrow and grinned slightly. "See, I told you! They just brought dinner."

Xxxx

I loved looking at him. And every time I placed a bite of food in my mouth I found him looking at me longingly. It was a peculiar feeling, but since I couldn't take my eyes off of him either, I guess I could understand. And his thigh pressed against mine was distracting. He was delectable. And charming. He had grown up in so many ways from the slightly arrogant but self-assured man I had fallen for six years ago. He was still self-assured, but the attitude no longer came off as overconfident or immature.

Huh, listen to me, Miss 'I still live out of a cardboard box', making assumptions about other peoples maturity. I laughed at myself on the inside, but tried to stay focused for just a little longer. I turned my head again and studied him while he watched me. I think that he knew he was capable in every arena. He didn't do fearful, he didn't do undecided. Even with the limited contact I had with him of late, I thought he had become the most self-aware person I had ever met. I mean, fuck. His girlfriend/bimbo/ whatever she was walked up to him and he blew her off so smoothly, that …. Well. Just. I mean, come on!

I knew that he would never lie to me. I had sensed it before I even set my fork down and picked up the wine glass by its stem, letting the wine roll around gently in the glass, trying to find the right way to start this conversation. I honestly didn't want to have it, and would probably have talked myself out of it, if it weren't for the fact that Marylou would be inquiring tomorrow –wanting all the details. So I had to get a move on. I really would have preferred to have run my fingers through his hair.

I really liked it long. It surprised me. I never had a thing for long hair. Well, Bon Jovi and Journey don't count, right? When I met him he was a soldier with that buzz cut going on. He had been all hard angles and muscle then. It was how I envisioned him all these years. But the reality of it was that this longer hair suited him. His muscles seemed larger; the hard angles of his face were more defined. That combined with the hair made him not only incredibly sexy, but it lent an aura of bad boy that really turned me on. And bad boy, all dressed up in a suit and tie--- well, I had a whole new appreciation for sexual fantasies, ok?

Damn, this wasn't getting me what I wanted. And what I wanted was to get back to where we had been a few days ago, but with condoms this time. Yeah, I was bad. And I wanted him bad, god help me. I looked down into my wine, wishing for the words to appear on the surface to get this conversation started. I lifted the glass to my lips, and looked at him over the rim. I lowered my eyes almost immediately because the heat, the blackness of his eyes looking back at me almost caused me to drop the glass. I set the glass onto the table with shaking hands. Closing my eyes tightly I cleared my throat and got ready to speak.

"Babe," he said to me at that moment, his voice carefully modulated and lacking any emotion. He reached out his hand and picked up mine. His eyes were boring into my own. His grip was firm and his fingers were warm in my hand. His voice stayed low, and there was only the slightest hint of emotion as he began to speak. "I will never lie to you. But I have to ask you to not ask. It isn't safe. Will you trust me? Everything isn't as it seems. Can you accept that?"

I looked at him with my mouth wide open. He told me everything I needed to hear without being asked. And the honesty I heard in his voice calmed me. I squeezed his hand, and I smiled at him slightly. God help me, I would believe anything he said to me, looking at me the way he did. "Ok," was all I was able to come up with when I could get my mouth to move. Such a conversationalist. Duh, Steph!

I felt 100 percent better after that. And I could be totally fooling myself, but it all felt right. We sat next to each other, the heat from his leg radiating to mine and driving me out of my mind. A simple touch and I was almost done for! Dessert was as good as it always was at Rossini's, and because I wasn't nervous any longer, I was able to fully enjoy the experience of tiramisu. Carlos took the fork from me at one point and started to feed it to me. It was an almost orgasmic experience. But the look Carlos gave me as he watched me licking my lips told me that I hadn't even a clue as to what orgasmic really was. Boy did I want to find out!

"Babe," he growled lowly into my ear as I flicked at the last bit of pastry with my tongue. His lips were warm and soft against my ear. I shivered into his embrace as his breath tickled me. He had held my hand almost the entire evening, but suddenly pulled it under the table. He pressed my hand against him and I could feel the hot throbbing of his erection. "I have a slight problem with leaving babe," he spoke then. I twisted my head to look at him, a tiny smile on my lips and felt my face go crimson. Somehow we made it out to the car without embarrassment or incident. I was so far gone I didn't even care if every wide-eyed woman in the room was on the phone to my mother at the moment. I had serious power.

"Babe," Carlos finally let me up for air. I was pressed against the door of the Porsche, entwined in his arms. His kisses, his fingers left me breathless and panting. He nuzzled his face into my hair. "I get one question too, don't I?" I pulled back and looked at him, but his eyes were hooked, blank. What was he talking about?

His eyes wandered to the doorway of Rossini's. Right. His job. "Uhm, yeah I guess." What could he possibly want to know, I thought.

He adjusted us, twisting me in his embrace so that he was leaning against the car and I was pulled against him. His arms wrapped around me and his hands were mindlessly rubbing my shoulders.

"I don't share babe," he finally said to me. I must have made a face, because his eyes lit up and he laughed. Out loud. "Not that way babe. Joe Morelli?"

I was able to hide my embarrassment in my confusion. "Joe Morelli? What about Joe?"

"I understand you two have a personal relationship….." It almost seemed that Carlos was uncomfortable discussing this. Good. I certainly hadn't been planning on the night going in this direction either. I had a Carlos induced orgasm on my list of Things to Do. This didn't seem the right way to get there.

"How would you know that?" I finally sputtered.

"It's what I do babe."

I thought about that for a moment. Ok. Right. He found me at work before he even knew my name. "Joe and I aren't really together right now." Even saying it I cringed. It sounded lame.

"But."

"But what?"

"What I told you tonight…it needs to stay between us."

"Oh. Yeah. Of course Carlos."

"And." I looked at him, waiting for him to continue. His eyes burned black, and made me shiver in anticipation.

"I don't share."

"Right."

"We're off right now," I told him, pinning him with a gaze that was as intense as his.

His tone didn't change as he asked, "How long have you been on?"

I put my head down, not wanting to look at him. "I've known him since I was six Carlos."

If the slight tensing of his muscles was any indicator, a shocked expression actually appeared on his face, but by the time I looked back up at him his face had been wiped clean of emotion.

"Boy next door?"

"Yeah kinda. It's complicated."

"Like the job?" he asked, his eyebrow rising.

"Yeah."

He seemed to relax a bit then. At least the tension in his voice, the pressure of his embrace seemed to change. His lips descended on mine and he trailed his tongue along the edge of my lips, tasting me.

"Come home with me babe?" he whispered as his tongue found the shell of my ear. I had no choice but to nod yes, I had lost the ability to form a sentence.


	18. Chapter 18

Xxxx

I closed the door of the Porsche, and loosening my tie, took a deep breath as I walked around to my side. I was shaken to the core by these feelings. Stephanie in my arms was the most addictive thing I had ever experienced. I had strong concerns that she could make me forget everything I had ever learned about protecting myself, about locking down my emotion. Not having control of my emotions wasn't an option in my profession. I was walking on shaky ground. The need to be with her was overwhelming all the distress signals in my head warning me to be vigilant—there is danger. My heart? Yes, I believe it was my heart telling me to allow her in; but the rest of me, the me that was trained to ascertain every eventuality in seconds, to evaluate and catalog and disable peril, was warning me away.

One more breath and I opened the car door. The scent of her overwhelmed me as I folded myself into the seat and started the car. I looked over at her and I couldn't stop the smile that worked its way to my lips. Her eyes lit up and then she blushed, I'm sure of it; even if the darkness of the interior hid it. Backing out of the lot, I placed my hand on her thigh. The silken material felt cool under my fingers. I began to feel the heat of her skin burning my palm. I ran my fingers along the length of her thigh with just enough pressure not to tickle her. That would come later.

The ride was brief and quiet, as I preferred it. However, I was not paying the least bit of attention to the sensual growl of the Porsche's motor this evening. As is my normal procedure, I processed all that had happened tonight, and felt that overall the mission---date; I meant date---had been a success.

I shook my head slightly to clear it. I was with Stephanie, taking her home with me. I wanted to fuck her till I couldn't remember my name, but I'm de-briefing! God-damn it, Manoso! I squeezed her thigh again just because I could as I turned into the driveway.

I looked over at her as she covered her gaping mouth with her hand, and I looked up to the house myself. I guess it was somewhat impressive. White with black trim, the home was a center hall colonial that I had agreed on because of the proximity to Julie's school. It was much more house than I had any need for, and I had given over the decorating and all that primping to Ella and my sisters. They enjoyed it more than me, and it made them feel like they were helping out their poor little Carlos. As if antique white or soft ivory walls in the hallway made a difference in my life. The only color I knew the name of anyway was Giggles, and that was because Julie had insisted we choose a horribly bright pink wall color out together. And giggle she did, I recalled, when we found out the name of her paint. Beyond that? I had very little use for any of it.

I had pulled into the driveway and remoted the garage open. Stephanie looked over at me as the lights came on. "You said you'd have a garage full of cars one day," she whispered in awe as I helped her from the car. I nodded and grinned slightly. Letting go of my hand, she walked to the far corner of the four car garage where my dad's car was kept. She ran her hand along the roof with a smile on her lips.

"I remember this." Her voice was wistful.

"I do too. The vision of you sitting in that seat is burned in my memory. It kept me company many nights." I ran my fingers along her arm and when I caught her hand I pulled her to me. "We can take it out sometime if you like," I whispered into her ear as I guided her in front of me to the kitchen door. Ella had left on the sink light as always, and the room had a soft glow that spilled into the hallway and den. I pulled her toward the couch, and still not letting go of her hands, fell onto it.

She had no choice but to fall with me, and she straddled my hips and laughed. I pulled her close to me and kissed her. She immediately stopped laughing as our tongues battled. Her arms were wrapped around my head, her fingers undoing my ponytail. Her fingernails scratched my head as they wound into my hair. With practiced ease I reached for her feet and slipped off her shoes, and pulled her closer to me, the warmth of her bare skin making me crazy.

Her scent was intoxicating. When I stopped tasting her lips, I burrowed my face into the valley between her breasts and almost came. I let go of her ass long enough to run my hand along her back, finding and loosening the zipper, and then slipping my finger under a strap and sliding it down her arm. My lips found her nipple again, rock hard and inviting me to feast on her. I shifted her with my other hand so that her wetness settled onto my trapped cock. I needed to fix this soon. I stopped sucking long enough to growl, "Babe lets go up stairs; I've got a really big bed." Taking her nod as assent, I was distracted again by her breast. Pulling the nipple into my mouth, I closed my eyes and gave into heaven.

I heard a car door slam. FUCK. I growled in frustration as I pulled at the dress to cover her up. I turned my head toward the door a second before my daughter sang out,

"Daddy! I'm home too!"


	19. Chapter 19

xxxx

I felt Carlos tense up before I heard anything. He must have super-hero hearing or something. Myself, I was a little too wrapped up in the feeling of him throbbing against me; his heart pounding, his lips and tongue licking and sucking my breasts for me to notice if the house was on fire. But he apparently heard a door, a car, a footstep. Something. And thank god he did! The next thing I knew Carlos was trying to get my dress adjusted on my shoulder while pulling himself together. Then a little girl's sing-song voice and skipping footsteps echoed through the hallway. Under his breath he cursed lowly, and he slid me off his lap and onto the couch. His daughter skid around the corner, pigtails flying; a pink backpack on her shoulder and a purple stuffed something in her arm.

His face had blanked by the time she had made it into the room. Julie. That's what her name was. Before he even had a chance to warn me, she barreled toward him and landed between us. And there wasn't a lot of room between us. He seemed to have expected that a child in pajamas and a raincoat would come flying at him and he grabbed her easily.

"Princess," he chided her. "Watch yourself." He pulled her up onto his lap as he spoke, and she continued undeterred to hug him. "I didn't know you were here daddy!" She kissed him soundly and cartoon loudly on his lips and squeezed her arms around his neck. Her face was towards me then and she finally noticed I was in the room.

"Who are you?" she asked. Her voice was friendly and open, but I sensed a wariness in her tone.

"Julie." Carlos tone was stern, with an undercurrent of frustration. He pushed her to her feet and stood up behind her. "This is Stephanie. Steph, my daughter Julie."

"Hi," she said to me at that point, but she reached out to grab her father's hand possessively. Father. Carlos was a father. That tone wasn't simply stern, it was _Dad_. Shit. His _daughter_ almost walked in on us! I looked back and forth at them, to see if I could decide what I was to do next; my face starting burn with embarrassment, but he was already occupied with her. I pulled my feet up under my legs, and sat back to wait.

"Why are you here princess?" Carlos took her bag and coat from her and turned toward a closet door.

She stood in the middle of the room, hugging her stuffed rabbit to her and mumbled, "Aunt Rina had a 'mergency."

"How'd you get here?"

"Miss Ella."

"It's her weekend off."

"I dunno." She shrugged and then yawned. "Aunt Rina called her."

"Where is she now?"

"Getting the groceries."

He looked at me and gave me a small grimace. His eyes had an apology in their expression. He took Julie's hand and walked towards the kitchen. I could hear chatter. A woman's voice; I guess Miss Ella? Carlos' deep rumble and the squealing high pitch of Julie. My head was pounding. What do I do? I felt totally out of place. There were definitely a few too many people here for a romantic interlude.

"No. Julie, it is long past your bedtime," I heard Carlos voice come down the hallway." It's after 11 pm. Bed, now." They entered the doorway together; she was wrapped around him like a snake. "I am just going to get Julie settled. I'll be down in a few, ok, Babe?"

His eyes were pinning me to the couch. I could see the un-slaked lust in the blackness of his gaze, and an apology for the interruption. He didn't wait for a response but turned toward the stairs with his daughter.

I watched as they ascended the stairs, and I heard Julie's voice chattering. I think tonight is finished. I put my head back onto his couch and closed my eyes. No promised better than tiramisu orgasm if it's his weekend to have his kid, I thought with a bit more malice than was really necessary. I heard quiet movement in the kitchen, Miss Ella putting away groceries, I assumed. I tried to figure out how to get myself extricated from this little scene of domestic bliss.

Xxxx

"Daddy!" Julie squirmed in my arms as I carried her up to her room. She grabbed my face when I didn't respond, her cool little hands covering my cheeks as she tried to get me to pay her attention. "Daddy!"

I put her down onto her bed and sat down next to her. She immediately was up on her knees, her arms around me.

"Daddy. Is that really Babe? She's pretty."

I was folding down her blankets, but had to stop. I looked at her intensely. "What are you talking about Julie?"

"You know, 'babe.' You always talk to 'babe' in your sleep!"

"Julie." I don't talk in my sleep. I certainly don't dream out loud. This was nonsense. She was probably just trying to stall bedtime. Yes. That's it. She's stalling. I lifted the cover and nodded for her to climb in.

"You do so, daddy." she scooted back and settled down under the covers. But she didn't stop talking. "Sometimes when I climb into bed with you I hear you talk to her."

I leaned over and wiped her bangs off her forehead before kissing her goodnight. She put her hand on my cheek again, and looked straight into my eyes. She whispered then, "You love her a lot. She _is _babe, isn't she? Is she gonna be my mommy?"

I was at a loss. How did she see so much? "Julie, we've been over this before." Handing her Mrs. Wabbit, I whispered softly, "I love you."

Closing the door behind me, I let out my breath and ran my hands through my hair. I looked toward the stairs, where Stephanie was. My babe.


	20. Chapter 20

Xxxx

I stood at the top of the stairs for far too long, thinking. My head was still full of thoughts about what Julie had said; about how much Stephanie had meant to me all these years. Without my even realizing it, had I really invested all of my emotional energy in continuing to dream of her, to keep her as the apex of my love life? Why? To prevent myself from falling in love altogether? For the past six years I'd known she was an unattainable goal.

Yet I had persisted in building her up in my mind. And trying to deny it. It worked with myself; but Julie, a 7 year old child, she seemed to think it was as clear as the nose on my face. And Marina? Marina had picked up on my musing one night and look at where we were now.

Yes. Look. My face softened as I peered into the den when I finally descended. Stephanie was lying on my couch, her legs tugged under her; her arm acting as a pillow for her face. Her hair was starting to come undone, her lips were soft and full and limp with sleep. She was in my home. She was my home. I felt more at ease, at peace with myself than I had ever felt in my life.

Carefully so as not to startle her, I approached the side of the couch where she lay and knelt down on the floor in front of her with a small blanket. I smiled slightly as I gently smoothed Dora the Explorer over her and she moaned softly in her sleep, wiggling under my touch. I ran my fingertip along her hairline, sweeping back a few errant curls, and I wanted so badly to kiss her lips. I resisted however, and standing again, turned to start a fire and put on some soft music. I lowered the lights and quietly settled myself at the end of the couch. She had stretched out under the covers, and I carefully picked up one foot and began to trace gentle circles along the arch of her foot, with just enough pressure I hoped to not be ticklish.

Her toenails were painted pink under her pantyhose. No, fuchsia. I'd learned something as the father of a girl! I wanted to lift up her dress to see if maybe they were stockings instead with lace around her thighs. That thought made me go hard instantly, the idea of hooking my finger under the lace; tugging at it with my teeth, being so close to heaven. The pressure of my fingers increased incrementally as I recalled how she tasted the other night, the way she dripped honey as I had lapped at her folds, bringing her to climax with only my tongue and fingers. I was holding her foot against my erection, the warm pressure torturing me, my mind totally not on the moment, when suddenly she wiggled her toes fiercely. I almost jumped out of my skin, but when I looked over at her, she was smiling, eyes hooded. "Mmm," she moaned, "that feels so good Carlos." And then she pressed her foot against me purposefully, and exclaimed, "That too."

"Babe," I growled, "playing with fire," as I pushed her legs from me and pulled her up against me. Our lips almost touched when she looked down at the blanket that was covering her and she froze in my arms. "Carlos," she sighed, putting the weight of the world into her voice. Shit. Fuck. Damn. I knew it.

I let her go, and ran my hands through my hair in utter frustration. She stood, and folded the blanket. She looked around the floor for a moment. "My shoes?" she questioned wistfully.

"Babe."

"Carlos. I don't think its right. I'm a daddy's girl, did you know that?" she paused and looked at me. "It's your weekend with your daughter. You should be spending it with her, not me."

I stood then, and reached for her wrist as she tried to move away. "Babe." I sighed. "Sit down, we need to talk." She stood where she was, refusing to budge. Fuck, there was no way I was letting her leave like this.

"Babe." There was an edge to my voice, a frustration I couldn't mask. I sat back on the couch. She sat too, her shoes in hand, and began to twist her feet into them. I had to take my eyes off of what she was doing in order to be able to think.

"Babe," I said again, my voice a bit more modulated, my face composed. "It's not my weekend with her. Julie lives here. All the time."

She looked up at me then, her attention finally on me.

"I'm a full time father," I finished quietly.

"Oh." Her face expressed shock, or confusion or some emotion I wasn't familiar with. Her mouth hung open, her other shoe poised in the air ready to go on her foot, but stopped in mid-air.

"Oh," she said again, and dropped the shoe on the floor. She bit on her lips, chewing at them the way Julie would do when trying to understand mathematics.

She readjusted herself on the couch, and fingered her dress. Finally she looked at me. "Why does-- I mean, well; uhm, when does she see her mother?"

"Her mother is dead." I didn't want to lose eye contact with her. I was trying to figure out what was going through her mind, and belatedly realized that had come off pretty harsh. "Rachel died the summer before last, as I was finishing my career in the Rangers. Julie and I have been together since then."

"Right," she mumbled sadly. "You said you came back last year."

"Babe, this shouldn't change anything. It doesn't change how I feel about you. How much I missed you." I took her hand and kissed her fingertips gently, my eyes imploring, begging her. "Babe?" I questioned gently.


	21. Chapter 21

Aint too proud to beg, 11

Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, not making any money….

Wow. Poor Julie I thought, looking away for a moment as I felt tears well in my eyes for his little girl. I looked back at him finally, and the intensity of his gaze peering at me through his heavy lashes, waiting for me to say something; for me to kick my other shoe off and not run away---. I didn't know how to describe what I felt radiating from him. It felt like a plea… silent but intense, begging something of me….

I finally looked away again. I couldn't think while he was watching me. He tripped me up. Staring at me, he made me think that the thing in the world I wanted most (other than to be in his pants) was to cater to an almost seven year old while playing the dating game. Holy crap. While he had been upstairs putting his daughter to bed I had thought of my nieces and Marylou's kids, the only children I had any experience with, and somehow I couldn't find that I was lacking anything by not wanting to get involved any further. Oh. Right, the orgasm he's been taunting me with every time he even looks at me. Damn.

I mean Damn! The memories of babysitting any of them were mind-numbing. Well, Julie was out of diapers, thank god for small favors. But I had seen her take her father's hand earlier tonight. She was staking her claim loud and clear. She probably wouldn't like me. That woman he had been seeing, well at least she had a kid. That probably distracted her. Shit. If I have to be bringing along Mary Alice all the time--!

I let out a sigh that was louder than I had anticipated and I felt Carlos grab my hand. I looked up then from my little pity party. The blackness of his eyes was not entirely from hurt. There was still the lust reading through.

"Babe."

I would call it pleading, although in all the years of dreaming of him, of remembering our few days together, I would never have known he knew how to plead. Would need to plead. I let my hand stay in his. A small victory for him; I could see it in the way his shoulders squared. I let myself be pulled into his embrace, because god knows that was a far more comfortable place to be, tortured mind or not.

"You feel so good, babe," he whispered, his voice rough as he nuzzled his face into my hair. We didn't move, he wasn't massaging or rubbing or doing anything but being around me. I finally felt the tension melt and I relaxed into his arms.

My brain was not as willing to stop. The little synapses were firing, point A to point B and back around, trying to make sense of everything; trying to find out if he had lied? Why he lied. His daughter existed when we met, but he wasn't part of her life then, but he just said his—his--Rachel, Julie's mother-- was she his wife? Fuck. Had he been married when I met him? I must have been tensing up again as I was thinking because his arms had begun a rhythmic rubbing from my shoulders to elbows and back up, steadily, smoothly and it no longer felt sexual. He finally spoke. "Ask me babe. I know you want to."

"I shouldn't be making a big deal of this should I?" I twisted to look at him, and his expression didn't change. "Babe. If you need to ask me something, ask. I've never lied to you." My expression must have indicated I thought otherwise, because he touched my nose, and his lips twitched slightly. "Lies of omission? Yes," he admitted.

Shit. He _was_ married. "Babe." His eyes were dancing and his mouth curved into a full smile. "I said that out loud?"

He nodded and laughed lowly, pulling me closer to his body. His face darkened before he began to speak. "I was divorced when I met you. Barely. But the marriage was for Julie's sake only. I had already agreed to allow Rachel's new husband to adopt Julie when I met you. When I left for Florida to handle some business, it was finalizing things before I began Ranger school. I didn't see Julie again until she was brought to the VA hospital a year and a half ago by my sisters, who had decided I was going to raise her after Rachel's death."

I caught the emotion in his eyes as he shared this with me and I felt privileged that he let me in. I could tell it was hard for him to share. My hand cupped his cheek and I leaned over to kiss him, to let him know I appreciated his confidence. "It's been….. interesting," he murmured, taking time to find the right word. "I'm not particularly skilled at fatherhood. I'm not suited to it. But we're managing I think. She says she loves me." There was a tone of wonder and surprise in the last bit.

"Of course she loves you," I whispered into his ear, having fully moved myself by this time onto his lap, after kicking off my shoe again. How could someone not love him, I thought, as I straddled his hips. My skirt shimmied up my thighs, and I pulled his head closer to me. I lay my cheek onto the top of his head and arched my back toward him. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted him to know how loved he was. _I _loved him. But I couldn't voice that out loud. It seemed too soon, too desperate. He groaned in pleasure as he turned his face and found himself burrowing in my chest. I sighed and giggled softly. "Babe." His breathing was becoming more labored, his hands splaying across the small of my back, pulling me even closer.

"Come to bed with me babe, please stay," he whispered into the valley of my flesh, planting a kiss on the top of my breast, tickling me. I was reveling in the feeling of warmth, of the tingle his breath was causing to run up and down my spine. I had never felt this way before. No one had ever been able to send me over the edge with simply a touch.

Julie, his marriage, everything else was going to have to be thought about later. I couldn't deny the feelings I had for him. "Babe," he groaned once more. I wanted his lips to be on me again, I wanted to finally have him make love to me. I pulled back and looked down at him with a knowing smile on my face. I licked my lips and kissed the tip of his nose and told him okay.

Somehow he propelled us both up from the couch, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist to avoid falling on my ass. He didn't miss a step as he carried me effortlessly up the stairs as I had just watched him do a short time ago with Julie. "I'm too heavy, put me down," I giggled into his ear, mindful not to be too loud. I didn't want to wake his child. My arms were wrapped tightly around his neck as we arrived at the top of the steps. "Never," he growled lowly.

He held me tighter and didn't let me go until we had arrived at the most sumptuous looking bed I had ever seen. The covers were velvety black in color, but satin in feel, and full of feathers I decided, as he pried my hands apart and dropped me into their depths. He stood back and turned on a bedside lamp, and then gazed at me again. I lay with my legs flat out, my arms above my head exactly as he had deposited me. "I've dreamt about you in my bed babe. For so long I've wanted to see you lying there …." He knelt onto the bed as he spoke and slowly crawled up the length of me, carefully exploring every part of my anatomy with his luscious warm lips. His fingers found the lace edge of my stockings and I heard him let out a sigh as he stopped kissing my thigh long enough to work his fingers under them and peel them off my legs, one at a time, slowly, sensually.

I was overcome by the feeling he could trigger. The power of his lips, of his fingers. The weight of his body on mine. He had worked off my dress, and bra, and thong, and I was as floppy as jello. He made every part of me hum. His lips and tongue were capable of being on every inch of my skin at once. I could feel the sucking, the licking, and the power of him everywhere. And he had on far too many clothes!

I tugged at his shirt, and tried to work at the buttons. But I was incapable of moving him unless he wanted to move. He finally gave in to my efforts and rolled off me and stretched out on the bed, his eyes almost closed, hooded; his long lashes hiding the fact he was watching my every move. Only the fact his breathing was still irregular told me he was still conscious. He didn't move in any other way. I tugged finally at the last button, revealing his chest as I opened the shirt. Even lying still, his strength and power was obvious. His muscles were well defined, his skin was toned and smooth. The darkness of his skin, a mocha-latte shade of brown darkened further by the sun, against the pale ivory of my hand running along the planes of his chest was exhilarating to me, fascinating.

My fingers continued their exploration, sliding up his chest, over his nipples which had pebbled under my touch, and they slid along his shoulders, into the sleeves of his black silk shirt. The feeling of cool silk and hot skin together was making me crazy. I felt the heat of his skin travel through me to my center, and I almost groaned at the sensation. I leaned down toward his neck, and sucked at the spot where I could see his blood pulsing through his veins.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but he reacted quickly to the sudden pressure on his skin. His arms encircled me, capturing my hands as they were all tangled into his shirt. I found myself being flipped under him, and then he sucked hard on the exact same place on my neck. His eyes were blazing with desire as he pushed himself up and looked down upon me. The definition of 'wolf grin' was illustrated clearly on his face. "Playing with fire babe," he breathed into my neck. He bent again to steal a kiss from my lips before pulling away again and studying me.

My arms were freed finally, and I continued to run them along his upper arms, now getting to feel the bulge of muscle in his upper arms as he held himself above me. Sliding his shirt down once more, and in defiance of his warning, I nipped gently at every bit of skin I could reach, and raked my fingernails along those parts out of reach of my teeth. He stopped battling me briefly, so he could toss the shirt out of the way, before falling back to the task at hand --- encircling my neck with nips and sucks and kisses. His mouth began then to trail down toward my breasts and I was aching for him to pull a nipple into his mouth. Memories of the other night assaulted me and I cried out as his teeth tugged roughly at me, sucking on me as his fingers slowly trailed farther south and found me moist and waiting for him.


	22. Chapter 22

The Big Chill

Ain't too Proud to Beg, 12

Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, not making any money

xxxxxSMUTxxxxSMUTxxxxSMUTxxxxxSMUTxxxx

Damn it all to hell I thought to myself, reaching over Steph's body to grab a condom. I really wanted to take my time; to let the experience unfold and be memorable and romantic and sensual. But my fingers slid inside her and it was all I could do not to come like a fucking 13 year old watching a titty video. Ripping the foil with my teeth, I finally had to stop touching her. Well, at least with my hands. My body was still pressed against her from where I could feel her toenails scraping at my ankles all the way up to where our cheeks were touching, my stubble marking her delicate skin. God, she was hot.

I spit out the tab of foil from my lips, pulled away to roll on the condom and squeezed myself harshly, trying frantically to regain control of the situation. I kneed her legs wide and positioned myself between her thighs, drinking in her beauty as I slid my fingers under her curls. I cradled her head in the palm of my hands, and bent to kiss her mouth. I couldn't believe this was really happening. I had kept Stephanie as a bright shining vision for so many years, the one thing that gave me strength to move forward when I couldn't see any light in my world.

Finally tonight, it was all going to become real. My dreams and imaginings were going to have to face reality. I hope I live up to my own fantasy! What if I don't live up to hers? I shook my head slightly trying to clear it, as I gently nipped at her lips, and she moaned softly. Bruised and swollen as they were from our foreplay, they were tantalizing to me. I had dreamed so long of holding her, lying here like this. I inhaled deeply and groaned "Babe," as I thrust both my tongue and my cock into her swiftly and deeply.

I felt her breath leave her body as I settled into a hurried rhythm. Thrust with cock, thrust with tongue. Swirl tongue, withdraw cock. Holy fuck, I thought. The taste of her made my head swim. I tried uselessly to fight for some control but her moans, her nails along my ass, her ankles locking around my waist, all proved to be too much for me and I could no longer hear the methodical 'thrust, thrust, swirl, withdraw' cadence pounding in my brain, helping me to focus on the task at hand, which was giving her pleasure, or trying to not shoot my load in under a minute. Or something. I couldn't form a coherent thought. I had never lost control of a situation so rapidly and so completely in my life. Before I was aware of it happening I was spilling into her, her body squeezing me violently and I had lost the capacity for thought, coherent or otherwise.

I gradually woke to the pressure of her ass pushing against me in her sleep. She was in my embrace, the palm of my hand wrapped lightly around her breast. Her hair billowed out on the pillow in front of my face, and I could smell the sweetness of her scent—that of sunshine, even in the pre-dawn light. My cock sprang to attention like the good soldier it was and woke me more fully, demanding notice.

Not that we had gotten much sleep. I smiled to myself as I pressed up against her, reveling in the feeling of her warmth. I carefully let go of her breast, and slipping my hand between us lazily stroked myself until I was throbbing and erect, while thinking about how incredible last night had been. I lost count of the ways I had made her come. And she me. I moved my other hand down her body to find her clit, and rubbed it roughly between my fingers until she began to moan in her sleep. Pumping my cock harder with my hand, I began to nibble at the back of her ear, running my tongue along the shell of it. "Babe," I breathed faintly, "babe…"

She moaned again and I pressed my erection against her ass with my hand, positioning it tightly between her cheeks and moving my hips suggestively against her. God yes, I thought to myself, every stroke making me less capable of thought. I want her more now than I did last night. You'd think I hadn't had sex in a year, the way I was losing control of the situation again. Half awake now, Stephanie giggled groggily, "He's a greedy one, isn't he?" as she reached her hand behind her to grab my cock. Moving my hand away, she mumbled, "Let me," and twisted in my arms till she faced me.

Her lips found mine and they were as soft as petals. They trailed over my cheek and she squealed as my beard scratched her. "You're a he-man," she whispered, laughter in her voice, as she ran her tongue along my chin, which was definitely in need of a shave. Her fingers were expertly pumping me, slow and steady, without the frantic quality we had experienced during last nights play. "Babe," I rumbled deep in my throat, "You are gonna kill me." I sucked her lower lip into my mouth, and her tongue battled mine. My hand went over her head to reach for a condom and I rolled her under me. Slowly, inch by inch I slid inside her. "Oh, babe, what you do to me," I whispered in her ear, holding her close to me, my hips grinding into hers, the pace unhurried and tender, the shroud of sleep still around us both.

Xxx end smut xxxxx end smut xxxx

"Mmmm. Morning," she whispered into the crook of my neck as we lay together afterward. My breathing was finally slowing, and I couldn't imagine a time I had ever felt more at peace. She placed a little kiss along my pulse point, and leaned up onto her elbows. "You know," she smiled down into my face, her hair spilling wildly around her head, "I'm not much of a morning person, but you could convince me."

Laughter rumbled in my chest and I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close to me. I kissed the tip of her nose, and tucked her back against me. Taking a glance at the clock I sighed slightly. This was going to have to end soon. I was not looking forward to the next bit. I was sure this was going to be awkward at best, but it was almost 6:30 and Julie could awaken at any time now. And I was on duty all weekend, no Ella backup. On duty? Shit man, she's your kid.

I ran my finger along Stephanie's arm, lightly tracing patterns along the length of it. This had been the most incredible night of my life. I didn't quite know what to make of it all. Stephanie had been a dream for years, and now the reality of her was curled into my side, already nodding back off to sleep. In all honesty I hadn't given a thought to anything beyond getting her into my bed. I knew unequivocally that I loved her. I just wasn't sure what love was. Or what one was to do with such knowledge. I knew I had never been in love before. And that was the sum total of my experience and comprehension on the topic.

I knew something of women though, having two much older sisters, and I had the sinking feeling that I wasn't going to get out of this without hurting her feelings. And then there was the Morelli issue. I didn't believe it when she said it was over. Women rarely let themselves end things easily. At least that was the experience I had found. It wasn't so much that I thought she lied to me as that I thought she may have lied to herself. And then there was the man himself. He didn't look at all 'over' her, either.

This wasn't getting the job done however. "Babe," I gently tugged her away from me slightly. "Babe, its time to get up." She rubbed her eyes and blinked and looked around the room with a question in her eye. "It's barely light Carlos," she grumbled and dropped her head back onto the pillow.

"What happened about you learning to like mornings," I asked.

"Another time. I'll try it another day. You'll need to be more convincing," she mumbled into the pillow. "And its Saturday," she replied grumpily to my laughter.

"It is. And that's why you need to get up. Julie has a tendency to crawl into bed with me on the weekends if I'm still here."

I sat up, pulling some of the covers off her as I did. "I don't want her to find you in my bed babe," I whispered.

"Julie. Right." She sat up and looked around wildly. "Babe, its ok, she's not up yet. I just don't want to oversleep and have her find you here." "I'll have to go?" She looked lost. Her voice was cracking when she said, "I'll get dressed." She had already stood up, pulling the sheet with her, looking around for her clothes.

"I um, Carlos, I don't have a ride," she said, gathering up her shoes and her dress. "Babe." I crawled across the bed and grabbed her hand. "I don't want you to leave. Look at me. Stay. Babe. I just don't want for Julie to find us in bed."

I pulled her close to me and tugged the sheet from her fingers. I had sat up on the edge of the bed and I pulled her close to me, and lay my head against her chest. I wrapped my hands around her waist and squeezed her close to me, sighing contentedly into her embrace.

"I'm going to go shower. You head on down to the kitchen for some coffee. I'll meet you there," I said standing finally and pushed her away from me. I walked over to the dressing room door and grabbed a T-shirt and my robe. "You'll be more comfortable in these I think." I pulled her to me and kissed her senseless. I turned then and walked toward the bathroom.

She was still standing, naked, with my robe in her hands, watching me. I waved at her to go. "I'll be down soon, I promise."


	23. Chapter 23

The Big Chill

Ain't too Proud to Beg, 13

Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, just playing

I watched him close the door behind him, somewhat mesmerized by the sight of his bare ass in motion; it actually overtook the upset and nerves fluttering about in my chest. His daughter could have walked in. That was a sensible reason for wanting me to leave. And I acted like a fool, thinking he wanted me to _go_. Honestly, I had forgotten about her. I had forgotten just about everything, I amended, touching my fingers to my lips, still feeling his tongue running along them.

I dropped my dress and shoes onto a chair by the bed and pulled on the large black T-shirt he had handed me. It just covered my thighs, and it smelled delicious. I shrugged my arms into the robe, and ran my hands through my hair. Disastrous, I could feel it. As I opened the door I realized there was nothing I could do about it now. Looking around the hall, trying to learn something of him from my surroundings, I remembered coffee. He wanted me to go down and make coffee. I could do that.

I got to the top of the stairs and froze. I sniffed the air, and the heavenly aroma of rich coffee was already wafting up the stairs. His housekeeper was here? Miss Ella he had said helped him to care for Julie. And she was awake and in the kitchen already. Great! I can't go down there alone. I was thoroughly embarrassed by the idea of wandering into the kitchen, with this Miss Ella trying to hide her shocked expression. Or worse yet, that her expression was one that said that finding strange women roaming the house in Carlos' bathrobe was a perfectly normal occurrence.

I sank down onto the thickly carpeted step and put my head in my hands. Fuck. Can't go to the kitchen because I will embarrass myself in front of his employee, and I can't go back into his room because his daughter could walk in. I'm stuck in limbo between two places. Despite my predicament, I smiled then, thinking about his room. And his bed. Last night was… why, I don't think there are words for last night.

Carlos was the most gentle of lovers, and the most sensuous. The way he kissed--- wow. And boy oh boy, he liked to kiss. Everything. His body was so muscular, so large, yet he was tender and incredibly considerate. Last night was perfect. And early this morning was perfect, a dream come true. Indeed the one thing that made me certain it wasn't a dream was the past five minutes. I can't believe I reacted that way when he asked me to get up. I thought that we had something---. Well, no, I know we just----. But, I mean I certainly wouldn't have _wanted_ for his kid to walk in on us! Oh, for cripes sakes!

My mind was drifting around in absolutely ludicrous circles. It was done. I slept with him. And he was real. And he has a kid. And we discussed Joe. And we didn't really discuss his work. And, it was nice. In a mind-blowing, good god kind of way, of course. Nice. Great vocabulary you have, Plum. You can't come up with something more earth-shattering than _nice_? Nice describes Mary Alice's attempt at doing a somersault. And what was going to happen next? Shit, _why_ did I sleep with him so soon? I was lost in reflection and didn't hear the footsteps as they approached.

"Hello," a sleepy voice said to me. "You're name's Stephanie, right? Why are you sittin' on the stairs?" I almost fell down them at the sound of her voice to be honest. I turned to look at a tiny tousled-haired copy of Carlos.

"I was going to go down and make some coffee but I think I'm too late," I finally stated when I could find my voice.

"Oh, that's the coffee machine. Miss Ella always has it set to go on for daddy in the morning. Daddy is grumpy if he doesn't have coffee, but I'm not supposed to say so. He doesn't think he is grumpy, but Aunt Rina said he is, and I don't think Miss Ella wants to make him be grumpier, so she always makes it even when she isn't here."

"Oh, I see," I said to Julie as she sat down next to me on the step. Remind myself not to give this kid any state secrets, I thought to myself, suppressing a laugh.

"Where is daddy?"

"He's taking a shower."

"Oh good! Let's go make our own breakfast before he comes down! That way I can show you where Miss Ella hides the sugared cereal. Daddy doesn't like me to have it, but Miss Ella lets me sometimes." She had stood up by then and was yanking at my hand.

I guess I was going to go help her go against her father's diet. Great way to earn brownie points with the kid, I reasoned, and I had noticed his diet was somewhat limited to healthy stuff. Ugh. I mean come on. He wouldn't even have a bite of my tiramisu at dinner last night! Well, except for that bit he taste-tested from my lips, I recalled with a shiver.

"See? Up here, in the back, is where my Cap'n Crunch is hidden," Julie said to me, teetering on the top step of the step ladder she had pulled over to the cabinets. Her head and hands disappeared into the cabinet and she backed out triumphantly, grinning at me widely. With Julie directing me through the kitchen, we got ourselves set up with bowls of cereal and milk for her, cereal and coffee for me. True to Julie's word, Miss Ella was nowhere to be found.

"I didn't know daddy was having a sleepover. I was 'posed to have one with my aunt, but she is a brain doctor. She had to go to the hospital last night," Julie said to me as she wiped a mustache of milk from her top lip. "I like sleepovers, but usually I sleep over Alyssa's house. She only came here one time, when daddy was in Miami. Daddy doesn't really like to play girly stuff, so Miss Ella stayed and we played make-up and Miss Ella curled our hair and we had so much fun!" She finally stopped talking long enough to shovel another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. I sat watching her, astonished at her rapid fire conversation. I was of course, looking for hints about that Elizabeth woman. It seemed like eventually this child would pass on the needed information, but man was I going to have to pay attention!

"Oh," I responded. "Your dad doesn't play games?" Come on, I don't know what to say to her! This is why kids confound me. I can't say 'I don't want to be rude or anything, but I really could care less about your makeup, why don't you just give me the dirt on your dad's sex life.' Yeah that wouldn't fly. So I just let her continue chattering, hoping there would be snippets of inspiration amongst the drivel.

"Nuh uh. He's a pretty cranky person most of the time actually. He doesn't smile or laugh a lot either. He's very serious. Aunt Rina said its cuz he was a soldier. They taught him to be serious. But sometimes I can make him giggle. I like it when he does. It makes my insides get all squishy when I hear him laugh." She looked at me very carefully when she passed me this little tidbit of information about him.

I smiled at her then. I knew what she meant about the insides getting squishy too. When he looked at me, when he touched me, --well maybe she didn't mean it exactly like _that,_ but… yeah, squishy about covered it all.


	24. Chapter 24

Atptb14

I liked Stephanie's smile. And she had very pretty eyes. They were blue, not brown like mine. And her hair already had curls in it. And she liked Cap'n Crunch cereal. She was a much better girlfriend for daddy than Elizabeth, because Elizabeth wouldn't let me eat any sugared cereal either. But Elizabeth did have pretty blue eyes and really long soft gold hair.

I remembered to not talk with my mouth full. "Are you daddy's girlfriend now? Do you have a little girl too? Or a boy?" I asked before I put my spoon in my mouth.

"Uhm, I don't know. No. I don't have any children," she told me.

"Oh. I think you should be daddy's girlfriend. He calls you Babe, and he always dreams out loud about someone named Babe. I think it must be you. Did you know I have a brother? He lives in Miami. I don't get to see him a lot. But daddy took me there in the summer and I got to stay for while and be with him. He is only three, so he's not stupid like the boys in school. Boys can be weird sometimes, can't they?"

It looked like Stephanie was choking. Her face got red, and her eyes got all watery. "Are you ok?" I jumped off my chair and went over to her. I touched her on her cheek. "Stephanie?"

She coughed and then nodded her head. "Yeah, I'm fine. No, I didn't know you had a brother," she said, shaking her head.

"It's ok. He's fun to be with. I wish he could live here with us. But daddy says we are a good family just the way we are. I want a mommy, but daddy said we don't need one, we have Miss Ella. I love Miss Ella but she is more like a nana, not a mommy. Miss Ella can't be married to daddy because she already is married to Uncle Luis, so she's not really like a mommy, right? A mommy would be married to daddy. And daddy said he doesn't want to get married."

I took my cereal bowl and carefully put it into the sink. Then I climbed back into my chair and looked at Stephanie again. "Do you want to get married? My uncle Jason is getting married. I get to be the flower girl. My dress is all pink and sparkly. Its really pretty, I look like a fairy princess in it."

Stephanie wasn't listening to me anymore. Her eyes got big and round and she was looking at the door. I didn't turn around because I knew it must be daddy. He always snuck up on me. He didn't say anything but he came over and his hand reached out and he took away my cereal box. He went over to the cabinet and put it away where it had been hidden. Uh oh.

"Good morning, princess. Sugared cereal?" he said to me quietly, with his unhappy voice.

Xxxx

I took the stairs two at a time, surprised by the spring in my step. My shower had been invigorating, and my mind had been firmly centered on Stephanie. My thoughts had wandered to some of the more erotic things we had done last night, and I had to deal with the consequences alone before getting on with my day. I hadn't quite figured out what was going to happen next but despite the lack of experience in a situation like this I felt confident. I had noticed that Julie's door was still closed so I thought I was going to have a few more quiet minutes with Stephanie, but as I reached the bottom step, I heard my daughters unmistakable chattering.

Poor Stephanie, she was being grilled by my kid. Listening for a moment, I had visions of Marina. I had never noticed how like her aunt Julie was. Rapid-fire, incessant questioning about Julie's favorite topic, 'Mommies and how to get one.' I stood in the doorway for a moment, watching the scene. It was gentle and domestic, and it tugged at something inside me that I couldn't identify. Stephanie glanced up and saw me, and her eyes became transfixed. She couldn't draw her eyes away, and Julie had moved on to her second favorite topic of late, weddings. Enough.

I could tell by the slight change in Julie's posture that she knew I had walked in. And she knew she had been busted. I reached out for the box of Cap'n Crunch that I had found hidden up in the cabinets a few weeks ago and without a word I put it away.

I poured myself a cup of Ella's magic black heaven and sat down at the table, and I looked at my girls. My girls. I reached out and picked up Steph's hand and squeezed it gently. "I hope Julie hasn't worn you out jabbering," I said with the slightest hint of laughter. "Daddy!" Julie responded loudly, and Stephanie just shrugged. "Nope. We're just getting to know each other."

"Good. But this is going to have to end. You have ballet in 45 minutes, young lady."

"Ok." Julie scrambled out of her chair and came over to kiss me. She cupped her hand over my ear and whispered, "Daddy, I like Stephanie."

I pulled her close to me for a second, and kissed the top of her head. How does this kid reach deep inside me like that all the time and make me feel vulnerable? Exposed? What am I supposed to do with that information? I smacked her lightly on her bottom and told her to get ready for dance.

"Scared yet?" I asked Steph, watching Julie race through the hallway. She smiled at me but she looked somewhat lost. "Problems, babe?"

"Huh? I guess I need to get dressed myself."

"I'll drop you home."

"Ok." She stood and walked toward the door herself. I grabbed her hand and pulled her close to me. "Babe?"


	25. Chapter 25

"I really do need to get dressed. I'll just shower when I get back home, ok?" I looked down at Carlos, and my heart constricted. The feeling of his hand on mine was setting off all sorts of alarm bells and warnings. Had he heard any of the things Julie had said? They were rolling around in my head. A brother? He had forgotten to tell me about Julie; why would I expect that he tell me about another child? And he didn't believe in marriage. But look at me, fighting Joe every step toward the altar. I had sucked at being a wife, just ask Dickie. _And_ he dreamed of me too? Out loud? Shit, had I ever spoken Carlos' name while I was asleep in bed with Joe? That thought had never even occurred to me.

I needed to get out of here; I needed to hash this out with Marylou, my voice of reason and sanity. And having Carlos holding my hand was not the way to sanity. As the warmth of his hand ran through me all I could think of was how it had felt having his lips on me, his tongue running along the length of my stomach….

"Babe." Carlos looked at me and I knew I had been caught daydreaming by the glint in his eyes. He stood up and pulled me close to him. "Babe, last night was…well, it was good. I'm glad you stayed. I'm glad you found me again," he whispered into my ear, sending shivers throughout my body.

I leaned into him, my body betraying my struggling resolve to step away for a bit, to figure out what should be happening next. His hands rubbed up and down my back, his arms wrapped about me in a comfortable and protective way. It was good, he was correct about that. The fear of the new uncharted areas we were approaching was all washed away in his embrace. And it was uncharted. I didn't ever feel this way with Dickie, I hadn't felt it with Joe either. There was a low level hum in my head, blocking out all the questions, all my fears.

And then I felt his reaction and my body responded strongly, almost sending me over the edge as he pressed himself firmly against my abdomen. "Carlos." It was almost a whine. I pulled back a bit and looked into his eyes. And what I saw there was as tentative, and as confused as what I felt myself. Oh for god's sake what a pathetic pair of losers the two of us were!!! I don't think he had a clue as to what to do next either. But I guess it could only mean we _were_ destined for each other. If we could only battle through the undergrowth and find the stupid path we should be following. The road in the woods that ---"Hey, I finally understand!" I burst out.

"Understand what babe?" Carlos asked with small smile at my sudden vocalization. I really need to learn how to control my mouth sometimes.

"Babe?" He asked again, his eyebrow rising in question when I didn't answer immediately.

"Huh? Oh. I never really understood what Robert Frost really meant when he wrote 'Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.' I never understood how poetry really worked…but I think I get it now."

"Babe." His smile had become a beacon. I think he was laughing at me!

"What?" I asked. I wanted to stomp my foot for some reason, but I resisted the urge.

"Robert Frost?" He gave me the eyebrow thing again.

"You do know who he is, right?"

"I'm more of a Sandburg fan, but yeah babe. So. What have you figured out?"

Sandburg? "Oh, well, just that---"

"Hold that thought babe," Carlos interrupted me as Julie came careening through the hall. "Go get dressed," he kissed my cheek and pulled away from me, a guilty smile on his face.

Xxxx

I sat in the den, braiding Julie's hair. She was mercifully quiet, squatting on the floor, leaning against my legs, but the price I had to pay was having 'Dora the Explorer' play on the VCR. Having had years of experience in blocking out experiences that were unpleasant, I was able to tune out the characters chatter and think about Stephanie.

Something somewhere was going to have to give. I didn't have a clue as to what I was supposed to do next. Shit. This is why relationships sucked. Hooking up with someone when you need to get laid is easy. You look each other over in a smoky bar, decide you're interested and that's that. None of this morning after shit. The ease of the situation with Elizabeth; that I could handle. We both knew the rules. And if she had ever wanted them changed? Well she had never complained.

But Steph? She was like the air I breathed, as required and necessary, and now that I had breathed her in, there was no way I could do without her. And I knew I was screwing up somehow already. I could feel it in the unease of our embrace. She was tense, and separated from me in some fashion. It hadn't felt like that last night. But what did I want to happen?

My life, my job, they just didn't lend themselves to relationships. I didn't have a clue as to what I should say, or do next. I knew I wanted to spend every moment I could with her, but how? And under what circumstances? And would being involved with her fuck around with my undercover gig? I didn't think I could trust this Morelli character. If he wasn't as done with her as she seemed to think he was he could make things ugly…and was she done with him? "Ouch!"

Julie whimpered. "You're pulling too tight daddy!"

And that my friends, is the conclusion of Ain't Too Proud to Beg….

As soon as I figure out which song is next, I'll be back!


	26. In the Midnight Hour

The Big Chill

Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, not making any money….

In The Midnight Hour……….Wilson Pickett

I'm gonna wait till the midnight hour  
That's when my love comes tumbling down  
I'm gonna wait till the midnight hour  
When there's no one else around  
I'm gonna take you girl and hold you  
And do all the things I told you  
In the midnight hour  
Yes I am  
Ooh yes I am  
One more thing I just want to say right here

I'm gonna wait till the stars come out  
And see that twinkle in your eyes  
I'm gonna wait till the midnight hour  
That when my love begins to shine  
You're the only girl I know  
That can really love me so  
In the midnight hour  
Oh yeah ..In the midnight hour  
Yeah, alright, play it for me one time

I'm gonna wait till midnight hour  
That's when my love comes tumbling down  
I'm gonna wait, way in the midnight hour  
That's when my love begins to shine  
Just you and I…Ooh Baby  
Just you and I  
Nobody around baby, Just, you and I  
I'm gonna hold you, In my arms….

I threw my pump at the door, and then the broken heel right behind that. "Damn it all to hell," I muttered under my breath. Stupid, cheap-assed pumps. What was I going to do now? He'd be here in 5 minutes. I continued to stare at the shoes in the closet, willing the shoe fairy to arrive pronto. I had thought the black strappy heels looked perfect with the flowery black silk skirt I was wearing. I didn't feel like changing. Well not into another dress, at least. Into some sweats and a tee shirt and call the whole thing off? Hell yeah, that would work. I blew a breath upward to knock an escaping curl out of my eye and sighed. I rummaged through the closet again. There had to be a pair of shoes I could wear! I spotted a box on the floor toward the back and got down onto my hands and knees, parting the clothes to avoid totally destroying my hair in the meantime. "Damn man better appreciate what I am doing for him," I grumbled.

"Nice view there."

I stopped my backward crawl, and stated quietly, "Fuck you."

His laughter filled the air. "Here's hoping," he retorted. I backed out of the closet and gave him my patented death glare.

He whistled when I stood and looked me over with appraising eyes. "Nice. Really nice."

Xxxxxx

"Julie Martine. Stop. This. Instant," I growled at my daughter, in the low and overtly calm manner which indicated exactly how pissed off I was at the moment. She stopped in mid-spin, instantly realizing she had crossed the line between playing with me and getting into serious trouble.

"Carlos," Celia hissed back at me, her tone weary. "There is no need for you to speak to her like that." One glance in her direction shut her down as well. Damn it all to hell, if I didn't get away from lace and sparkles and flowers and fucking family hovering and surrounding me soon, I was going to lose it. And I never lost it.

But the past week had not been a good one. I hadn't been able to see Stephanie. I hadn't even had a chance to call. I'm not a phone person. But the lack of contact with her was unacceptable. However, the shit was about to hit the fan big time with the Bloods. I had a crap-load of Intel to sort through. I had evaded arrest not once but three times, and actually gotten into a fist-fight with a 'gang brother' who wanted to show the others who was stronger! Fucking jerk.

I was nearing the place where even my limits were stretched too thin. I needed to be in three places at once most of the week. And normally that wasn't a problem for me. I thrived on the adrenaline rush but right now, I wanted to just be around Steph. And that, too, was unacceptable. I needed to be able to do my job. Too much depended on it for me to be whiling away time like a love sick school girl.

And then, last night. Last night when I was finally able to tear myself away, I drove to her apartment and found to my great irritation that Morelli's Jeep was in the parking lot. Yes, I knew what he drove. Shit fuck damn.

Xxxxx

Well, wasn't this cozy. I glanced again into the rear view mirror and saw that Stephanie was pretending to sleep. Hell, it's what I would do, if I weren't at the wheel. My Grandma Bella was obsessively watching my speedometer, and I was getting more and more frustrated by the concept of having to make the two hour drive back to Trenton tomorrow. God fucking help me. Why was I the good son? What did it get me anyway? A weekend away with my mother, Grandma Bella and an incredibly reluctant and petulant Stephanie. Yeah.

Somehow, my sisters were all busy with soccer games and bake sales and I was volunteered to be their escort. Truthfully, I had forgotten I had agreed to it a few months back. But I had figured there was nothing wrong with a weekend away with Steph; she loved to dance, so a wedding was just the ticket for a good time. Well, the after parts anyway. Of course, we had been at a different point in our relationship then. Heck, I figured it might even be the thing to soften her up about finally getting married. What was I thinking, I considered with a sigh.

A quick glance at my mother sitting primly beside Steph, and Grandma in the front seat quickly made me see the error of my ways. What sane woman would agree to marry into this family? Now don't get me wrong, my mother is a saint, and there's not a woman in the Burg who can hold a candle to her in any way. But she could come on strong. And Grandma Bella? Well, honestly I knew she couldn't really put the eye on anyone. At least I didn't think she could. But she was somewhat dramatic all the same.

But off we went, a weekend of romance and fun times to be had at the wedding of my Grandma Bella's childhood friends' daughter's great-niece. I think that was right. Some totally strange couple who we'd never met and would never come in contact with again. The wedding was in Peekskill, a two hour ride from Trenton when there was no traffic, which of course in New Jersey was about never. So the Pastosa family had put a hold on a bunch of hotel rooms. The majority of the guests were staying there. I hadn't yet volunteered to Steph that we were sharing a room because I was apparently still in the doghouse. It just seemed easier this way.

Xxxxxx

I felt a throbbing between my eyebrows. It was like a dentists drill bit, piercing my skull, making me crazy. Mrs. Morelli was keeping time to the radio with a distinct humming sound that was precisely the right pitch to make my head ache. I refused to open my eyes and let anyone know I was awake. Although I could feel Joe glancing back at me on occasion. He knew I was pretending, but thankfully didn't hate me enough to call me on it. Yet.

How had I gotten into this mess?


	27. Chapter 27

The Big Chill

In the Midnight Hour 2

Aliaslaceygreen

Don't own 'em, not making any money

I felt naked and just a little vulnerable, but to appease my sisters, and to avoid the possibility of committing a sin on church grounds, I was unarmed. I don't know if Rina could see in my eyes that I had reached the end of the line or what, but she made sure I was not carrying. Celia's kids were all here; they were keeping Julie out from under my feet, and that was nice change. Except for the fact that I was uncomfortable at family functions, on the whole things were looking up. I was going to have to get back to Trenton tonight though, to grovel. Shit. It had come down to groveling. Again, what makes people _want_ to do this relationship shit?

I was sure that Celia would hardly notice a sixth child, if Ella was not planning on coming back to work until Monday. I could sneak out of the reception early and by midnight be at Steph's apartment. I couldn't call. I had waited too long. I had certainly screwed up, dropping her off on Saturday morning on the way to Julie's dance class. I hadn't even been able to talk to her about much of anything because Julie was in the car. And then the whole week got messier and messier. The time to make it right, to make it not seem like I had just thought she was an easy lay; well it had long since escaped me. Even I knew that. Fuck. I grimaced at my reflection in the mirror as I tugged at the folds of my bowtie.

Xxxx

Its not that I don't love Joe, I do, in my own way. And that's why I agreed to come along to this wedding. I was angry at him, but didn't hate him _enough_ to force him to spend a weekend alone with his mother and grandmother. That's what friends are for, right? But listening to the tsk tsking from Grandma Bella every time he accelerated, I thought maybe it was a damn foolish thing, being friends. What was I thinking?

I thought back to the conversation last night. "Joe, if your grandmother suggests even once –once, ok?---that she sees us having babies, I swear to god I will not be responsible for my actions. Got it?"

"Yeah, cupcake. Look I really appreciate this. You don't know—"

"Yeah, I do," I interrupted. "But it's only because I promised. I still am not with you, got it? And if you lead either of them on---"

"Cupcake, I may have to. For god's sake, it's a family wedding. Come on," he whined.

And I caved. Maybe I agreed to the whole thing be cause of my depression over Carlos. Marylou and I had such hopes and such fantasies on Saturday afternoon when I told her about my date. The dinner, the dancing, the necking on his couch. Even the interruption by Julie she could understand and sympathize with, what with having a house full of kids. I didn't even have to tell her about the sex. I think she could see it in how my eyes glazed over as I got to the place where he carried me up the stairs. And then the waiting began. And as the days passed, we went down the list ---first he was being careful to not seem over-eager and stalker-ish, then maybe he had gotten busy. By Thursday we were crowning him the king of jerks.

Joe coming by, wanting me to go along to the wedding like we had planned way back when; him pulling the friend card; telling me he knew he was a jerk sometimes, but you gotta love me a little? Enough to not do this to me Steph, come on! I gave in, but I wasn't gonna make it too easy. My heart was cracked in two by Carlos, and I didn't think that Joe would have a chance of making me smile.

xxxxxx

"Julie tells me you had a sleepover last weekend." I walked into the deserted hallway and confronted my brother.

"Does she?"

"Yes, she does. I may have been too busy with last minute stuff this week to call and ask you about it, but don't think it doesn't mean I'm not aware. With Julie nothing will get by you, Carlos. She's just full of interesting tidbits," I said with a small smile on my lips. Carlos was looking more and more uncomfortable as I ribbed him.

"Great," he groaned.

"It _was_ Stephanie, wasn't it Carlos?"

"Rina."

"Well?"

"Yes, it was Stephanie."

"And?" I pushed him.

"This shade of blue really suits you," was his response, his smile replaced by a look of careful boredom.

"Once this is all done with," I waved my arm, ignoring his comment, "I will be more than happy to make sure Julie spends some time with me, so you can be with Steph, get re-acquainted and all that."

He looked at me and giving me his most heart melting smile, tried again to distract me, "Marina, you don't look old enough to be the mother of the Groom, you know that?"

"You can't distract me with your many charms Carlos," I said to him as I brushed a bit of lint from his shoulder and straightened his tie. He grinned then. It was small, and if you didn't know him, you wouldn't know he had even heard you. He cocked his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"Not even a bit, brother. Come on; let's go that son of mine married before Julissa comes to her senses."

I turned and picked up my purse. From behind me Carlos put his hand on my waist, and leaning down, lightly kissed my forehead. "Rina?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

I turned and looked up at him. His smile could melt you, when he offered it to you. Mine got just as bright as I laughed lightly and swatted at his chest. "For you hijo? Anything."


	28. Chapter 28

The Big Chill,

In the Midnight Hour, Three

Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, not making any money

I think Joe lied when he said the wedding was two hours away. I would swear before a court of law I had been trapped in the car for days already. Mrs. Morelli, upon seeing the sign for Peekskill, had come to life, and began to discuss the upcoming wedding with her mother; and there were enough broadsided hints about a wedding between Joe and me that he caught me glaring at him in the rearview mirror. His expression was somewhere between sheepish and resigned.

I gave up pretending to sleep. I needed to find out exactly who was getting married and who else would be here. Hopefully enough people to mingle with so I could disappear all night and get away from these two. Three, I amended. I am not here with Joe! Whether Carlos is a jerk or not, I am not here with Joe.

"So Grandma Bella," I asked breezily, "exactly who is it that is getting married today? Joe was a little fuzzy on the details." Now, Grandmas throughout the Burg do not mind being referred to simply as Grandma and their name, (to differentiate them from some _other _Grandma) indeed they take it as a sign of respect that someone has elevated them to the status of Grandmother. Funny, because Mrs. Morelli was still Mrs. Morelli, like my mom was still Mrs. Plum to Joe. But it was in the rule book of the 'Burg. Besides, I'd known her since, well, forever, I suddenly realized.

She twisted in her seat and set her beady black eyes on me and I instantly regretted reminding her I was in the car. She was seriously scary sometimes. She had a mole almost the size as the one that Mama Macaroni down at the dry cleaner had. It used to scare me to death to run that particular errand for my father. I felt a shudder of revulsion run up my spine, and my hand went to my chin without warning, searching, to assure myself there were no moles of any kind that could turn mutant and sprout whiskers as I aged.

I came back to the conversation as she was explaining that the bride, Julissa Pastosa, was the granddaughter of her best friend's sister, who came over here from the old country. "Santa Molinari and I were best friends from the time we were born. We grew up in the same village. Our fathers came to this country together after World War I." I could feel a history lesson coming on, so I tuned her back out. Ok, so it's not really a family thing. That meant probably no one else I would know. Great.

I forced myself to pay attention eventually. Gossip wins out in the 'Burg after all. Julissa had apparently found herself a good catch; Pre-Med, according to Grandma Bella. Her fiancé Craig was studying internal medicine and they would be moving all the way to Chicago. Oh, take me, I begged inside, if it would get me out of this car. Vacation for me, honeymoon for them. What? It could work. Why are we not _there _yet?

As Joe followed the directions we ended up in a pretty little town. The church was old and built from stone; it was exactly the type of building that you would imagine when you thought 'church'. Stained glass, tree-shaded courtyard, the whole nine yards. And Mrs. Morelli began again in earnest, planning out loud our future wedding; one that would be as lovely. "And this is definitely the right time of year, remember that Joseph. An autumn wedding. It doesn't get much better than this; Stephanie, are you paying attention?" As we were seated, she continued her monologue, getting nods of assent from Grandma Bella, and somehow avoiding the burning laser rays of my eyes.

And the thing was, except for the fact I wasn't marrying Joe, or ever planning really on getting remarried; at least with all the pomp, she was right. The bride, or mother, or both, had really great taste. Everything was sharp, romantic and stylish. And Mrs. Morelli was totally ruining the experience by carrying on. We sat, and Joe leaned over to me and whispered, "Look at it this way, it can't get much worse."

Xxxxx

The music began, and we made our way out to line up at the altar. There were seven of us in all; my cousin Craig, the groom; his brother Jason, myself and four of his friends. Or maybe they were Julissa's brothers. I hadn't been paying much attention to be honest. My mind was on Trenton. One problem solved, with Marina being on my side. I had to hand it to her; she was perceptive.

And good to me. I probably should be a little afraid by how enthusiastic she was being about me getting involved with Stephanie. After all I had spent the better part of the last year blowing off her attempts at getting me married. I looked around me. Could I do this? Would I? My lifestyle didn't really equate with a picket fence. It never had, and I felt I was already making a lot of sacrifices in my career and what I could be asked to do because of Julie.

I didn't really resent her, but her arrival on my doorstep pretty much had major lifestyle repercussions. I knew I had turned down assignments that were too dangerous. This whole gang thing worked out from the crap with Ron, but because I was able to be home every night; well, at least nights I wasn't locked up; I had convinced the ATF to allow me to stay on the case, instead of moving me onto something else they had brewing. How many times could I do that? What did I want next? I knew I could never be a paper pusher.

RangeMan was taking off. But the added benefits, both monetarily and via the connections provided by the government couldn't be ignored. The level of clearance I rated wasn't something to take lightly. I couldn't ignore its importance. But Stephanie. Marry her? God knows I love her. I had since I met her that day all those years back, if you want to get down to it. But relationships require a level of compromise, of restriction I was unsure I was willing to accept. I felt a shudder of loathing run up my spine at the thought of the limitations, and tried to refocus on the present.

The music changed and we all looked toward the rear of the church, where the door had opened. I smiled at the sight of my little girl, so proudly and carefully flinging rose petals on the white runner as she pranced down the aisle. I felt a shiver run through me again, and glanced over the congregation to find the source of my unease. My eyes locked on Stephanie's, which were huge with recognition and surprise.


	29. Chapter 29

The Big Chill

In the Midnight Hour, 4

Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, just playing

As the processional began and the rest of the congregation stood and turned toward the back to watch as the bride entered the church, I found my eyes locked on the altar, and on Carlos. Carlos! Our eyes were glued to each other, totally oblivious to our surroundings. I heard a hissing over my head and felt Joe tug at my arm, "Stand up, Cupcake. My mother is getting embarrassed," he whispered into my ear and pulled me up and close to him. I finally was able to pull my eyes away, shaking my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Still paying no attention to the processional, I quickly flipped open the wedding program, searching for names. Craig _Dennison_! Oh, my god. Dr. Marina Dennison's son. I ran my fingers along the list of the wedding party, and there it was. 'Ricardo Carlos Manoso, Groomsman.'

Joe pulled at me again. "What the hell is wrong with you," he ground through his teeth quietly, and had me sit. I did so without thought, and my head pivoted to Carlos's instinctively. He had turned around for the service, so I got to study him from behind. His hair was slicked back and pulled into a crisp pony tail. His tuxedo fit tightly across his shoulders; even from here you could see how massive his build was; how perfectly the pants molded to him. Made for him, definitely not rented. The men around him seemed dwarfed by his sheer presence; although in pure fact two of the guys up there looked taller, heavier. But Carlos, he exuded a strength that made the others look weak, small. His hands were grasped behind him, he stood in the military at ease stance; but I sensed a tension radiating from him. I willed him to turn around, but I knew he wouldn't.

How had I not seen him while people were seating? Had he been there all along? I began looking at the rest of the wedding party. That was Julie! Oh, she was talking about weddings the other day! Telling me she was going to be a flower girl. Talk about six degrees of Kevin Bacon! I spotted Marina, sitting next to a man I guessed was her husband. He was balding, but he looked like he had been a red-headed Irishman at one point. I looked over to the groom, and realized how attractive the combination of exotic Latin mocha skin and the brighter, paler Irish complexion had turned out. Our children would look like Craig, I thought, looking down at my pale Hungarian hand, and back at Carlos. I almost slapped myself at the notion.

He wasn't lying wounded and unidentified in a hospital bed with amnesia; the last and best hope that Marylou and I had concocted for his not getting in touch with me. No, he stood up there, as fine looking and delectable as I had recalled and I couldn't for the life of me find it in me to stay angry with him. I felt Joe tug at me again, and stood mechanically as I was meant to do next. Suddenly a horrible realization crossed my mind. Carlos saw me here with Joe. I had told Carlos Joe and I were off! Over. Oh, shit.

Xxxx

It took all my considerable training not to turn around. Not to go down into the pew and pick up that fucking Morelli by the lapels and toss him out the door. Only the fact that Marina would have my hide stopped me. That and the fact that Stephanie appeared to be here with him. She said they were on the outs, and I believed her. Or I fucked her over and walked away-- probably what she thought, so she went back to him. To some stability. Something I couldn't offer. Or wouldn't offer. She came with him. What were they doing here? They were on the bride's side; damn, this world is too fucking small.

Craig and Julissa had opted for the full Catholic mass, so I was going to be standing here fuming for a while yet. I needed to get my head together. I really didn't want to make a scene. About him being with her. Or being here at all. That was something we were going to need to have a conversation about. I couldn't let the last year of groundwork be fucked because he blew my cover. Maybe it was a good thing I had this cooling off time before having to deal with him. With her. What the fuck was I supposed to say to her?

As the recessional music began, and I offered my arm to the bridesmaid I had been paired with, Samantha, Suzanna, something like that, I found my eyes drawn to Stephanie again. She was right on me; I bet she hadn't taken her eyes off me the whole time. It had certainly felt like that. I could actually feel her staring at me. I wasn't able to turn around to acknowledge her then, but I tilted my head almost imperceptibly as we started down the aisle. Officer Morelli still hadn't noticed me, from what I could tell. Which was a good thing. I still hadn't exactly figured out what I was to do about him, or her. Fuck.

Xxxx

"Sit," he said to me again, and one look at the blackness of his eyes told me I had better just go along with what he asked. He seemed a man on the edge; and having locked him up countless times over the past year, I knew he had a short fuse. I took a seat at the table he had steered us toward, never removing my eyes from him. At least I had gotten my beer before I ran into Manoso. What the fuck is he doing here? I glanced at the boutonnière in his collar and realized he was part of the wedding party. I hadn't even noticed. Of course I don't spend a lot of time at weddings admiring the men on the altar. Now that little red head who was a bridesmaid; her I noticed.

"Officer Morelli, may I ask how you ended up at this wedding?" Manoso pulled up a chair and sat down facing me. He slouched casually, giving any onlooker the appearance that we were old buddies. He had already told me we wouldn't do this outside, he wasn't about to disrupt the festivities, when I had suggested we take a walk around the yard.

Why do I feel like I am the one being interrogated? I have every right to be here! "I'm escorting my grandmother. The bride's grandmother is her old friend. I might ask you the same question?" I looked him boldly in the eye; trying to regain the attitude of superiority that I normally possessed when around him. Fucking gang-banger game he's playing with me. Shit. I should have said I came with Stephanie! She was all over him last week. That would have been a nice blow. Too late Morelli, I sighed inwardly.

Manoso had been looking at me with a dead, blank expression up till then, but he raised his eyebrow slightly. He considered my question and finally stated, "Craig is my cousin."

We were at an impasse. Nothing further was said. And I didn't exactly know what it was he wanted to say in any event. I had pretty much figured out that he was undercover the other night, though he didn't know that yet. The fact he sat here in a tuxedo and didn't have even one Bloods mannerism solidified my hunch. He seemed perfectly at home in the environment he was in currently. I was insanely curious as to who he was working for, why and the details. He didn't strike me as the kind to share.

A tiny boy toddled past our table toward the doorway, trying to outrun his keeper. Manoso stood fluidly and grabbed the boy in his arm. "Ah uh, Ricky. You can't go there," he scolded, and deposited him back on to the floor pointing him the other way. "Go find mommy," he said, surveying the crowd and apparently spotting the child's mother heading this way, and swatted the boy's behind gently.

"Morelli," he began as he settled back into his chair, interruption forgotten. "It is imperative you keep your mouth shut. If you so much as hint to anyone I'm undercover, you will be looking at a long career as a crossing guard. Don't doubt I have the connections. Do I make myself clear?"

I could do silent too. I really had nothing else to say it seemed. He was calling all the shots. As he talked I looked about the room. The other guests mingled, and some were dancing already. I had lost sight of Steph, and wondered if she was making out OK with my mother. When I had left her mom was going on about how horrifying it was that the bridesmaids were in black. That was a cue to go find a beer if I ever heard one! My eyes wandered around the crowd. I saw the little boy, Ricky, in a pretty Latino woman's arms. Ricky. Ricardo Manoso. Why, the man is married with a kid! Wonder if Steph knew that. Wonder if she's even spotted him here.

A little girl in a pink dress, I think maybe she had been the flower girl, came skipping lightly over toward our table. She was giggling silently as she approached and slowed down to a really cute little creep on her tip toes. Her eyes caught mine and I saw the mischief in them. I returned my glance to Manoso so as to not let on she was behind him.

Suddenly she was embracing him, with her fingertips covering his eyes, and she was giggling loudly. "Guess who!" she exclaimed.

He wasn't surprised. Not even a bit. Shit, he's good. His hand went up and removed her fingers without ever breaking eye contact with me. "Not now Julie," he said to her, patting her hand lightly.

She started to bounce up and down, and her voice got that high pitched whiney sound my nieces made. "No, daddy, you're supposed to _guess_ who it is."

"I did, princess. I said not now, _Julie_." He had yet to take his eyes off of me. He pulled her to him for second for a quick hug and then pushed her back toward the dance floor. She came right back at him and tugged on his hand.

"Daddy. Dance with me. Isabella's daddy is dancing with her."

Daddy. He's got two kids and a wife. Heck, I couldn't wait to go find Steph and point out the happy little Manoso family. Maybe she'd stop her silly carrying on about him then. Although she had been right about him not being a gang member. But he's moved on. Maybe she will move back on to me, and get over this stupid 'we're friends but I can't live with you' crap she'd been feeding me ever since she ran into this jerk again.

"Manoso, I think we understand each other. Go dance with your daughter."

I offered my hand to his, and he hesitated only briefly before taking it. "See that you do."


	30. Chapter 30

The Big Chill

In the Midnight Hour, 5

Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, not making any money

It had taken some time to figure out how to get away from Grandma Bella and Mrs. Morelli without being downright rude. It wasn't easy. Damn it, Joe was going to need to make them understand that we were not a couple! Obviously my attempts at explaining our 'relationship' were weak and unconvincing.

Shit. I didn't want to be a couple. Not with him, with Joe. My heart had settled on Carlos. The moment our eyes met again, I knew I would believe any story he fed me. I just wanted to be in his life. It was a bad idea, I could almost guarantee that. My heart never quite got the message straight, my head would try to overrule what it thought it heard and the stupid, insecure me is the one that always seemed to win out anyway. Well, not win, right? Fuck up.

I knew I had fucked up, being here with Joe. It would have been far better to have sat at home for the rest of my life, thinking all sorts of terrible things about Carlos, rather than having him see me in the church, standing _with_ Joe. Carlos seemed like the kind of person who took people at their word. And I had lied. Or so it looked. He told me he didn't share. And neither did I.

I believed in monogamy. I wasn't looking to string either of them along. I didn't have the smarts to juggle two men. Or the nerve. I apparently didn't have the nerve either to simply cut the cord and be done with Joe. It hadn't seemed all that bad an idea, going to the wedding with Joe. Until I realized what sitting in a car with his mother and grandma would be like, and then it was too late to back out. So I pulled together all that 'Burg training and decided to grin and bear it. It would make me a better person. It was penance. Heck whatever I couldn't convince myself was my 'Burg upbringing could be laid at the feet of the Catholic Church. Guilt was easy.

But to explain it all to Carlos? Shit. I groaned inwardly. I knew it was gonna be bad. I didn't see either Carlos or Joe anywhere. I hope they hadn't connected and decided to beat the ever loving crap out of each other. I had seen Joe fight; he was good. But I wouldn't bet on him against Carlos. I scanned the room again; no guys.

But there was the wedding cake. That I needed to take a look at. What? I worked in a bakery through high school. Pastry was important. I made my way across the room, and swiped a flute of champagne off one of the waiters meandering through the crowds. Alcohol was a good idea, if I was to have to deal with the two of them tonight. My head hurt already at the mere thought. Cake. That was a far better thought. I got within 5 feet of it and could smell the butter cream frosting. Sugar rush by osmosis! I took a lingering whiff as I approached the cake table. Mmmm, that's so GOOD! It was a work of art. Delicately created roses, in the palest of pinks; definitely a girly-girl wedding cake. I had been able to make those roses, once upon a time, I recalled.

I must have been lost in some sugar induced stupor because suddenly Carlos' voice breathed into my ear. "See something you like, babe?" I turned to him, still in a haze of sugar-fog and smiled broadly, forgetting my anger, irritation and even the fear that Joe might be lying in a bloody pile somewhere.

"It looks delicious," I told him, looking back at it. "I'm a pie man myself," he whispered hoarsely into my ear. And a shiver of something I couldn't name ran down my spine.

The next thing I knew his finger snaked out and ran along the base of the cake near the back and came up to my lips with the smallest bit of green leaf and rose on it. My eyes were wide. "You just –just---it's the _wedding_ cake!" I sputtered. And as I spoke his finger slipped into my mouth, and I ran my tongue around it without thought, eyes closed, sucking the illicit theft of sugar, and savoring the incredibly erotic situation we found ourselves in, standing alone among three hundred people. "Babe," he groaned lowly, his other hand resting lightly on my waist.

He stood so close to me. I could feel the heat of his body radiating toward me. I could smell the scent of him, so comforting and memorable it even overtook the buttery sweetness of the cake. I didn't know what he was made of to smell so good, but I wanted to bury my nose into the crook of his neck; I wanted to lick him clean like a spoon of cake batter. I wanted to taste him desperately.

I probably would have leaned back into him and attempted it too, I was so far gone, except for the fact he suddenly let go of me and bent down. He swiped up a baby who had made a beeline for the cake. Smart kid, I thought, looking at him. He was a miniature Carlos, complete with little bow tie! "No Ricky. No cake," he scolded with a patient voice as he hiked the kid up into his embrace.

"Babe, this is Ricky. My godson and apparently chaperone this weekend," he said with a hint of indulgent laughter in his voice. We stepped out of the dark alcove where the cake was waiting to make its grand appearance, and he looked around the room. "My sister Celia's youngest," he said, nodding toward a beautiful woman in a red dress standing across the room. Little Ricky for his part, seemed perfectly content to be in his godfather's arms. That I could understand, too. He put his head onto his shoulder, his thumb into his mouth, and closed his eyes.

"He's precious," I said to him, as we stood comfortably together, the little erotic interlude forgotten. Or no, not forgotten. Just shoved off to the side where you shove things that confuse you. Under the bed with the dust bunnies.

I looked beyond his sister, standing with a crowd of people around her, and saw Joe was dancing with his mother. And he was facing this way, a smirk on his face. Great. This is gonna get fun now, I can feel it.


	31. Chapter 31

The Big Chill

In the Midnight Hour, 6

Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, not making any money

Challenges below!!!

I looked down at Steph and I could feel myself tense all over. She did something to me that I couldn't understand. It disturbed me greatly because I prided myself on always being in control. She looked like sex on legs in her black swingy skirt, and clingy black shimmering top. It curved around her breasts, accenting them, making them appear even more lush and full. Although I couldn't glimpse her cleavage, I remembered what she looked like naked. Soft round globes, my hands full of her, my lips trailing—Shit! What she tasted like. 'Dios,' I groaned inwardly, and adjusted Ricky in my arms. "Dance with me babe," I leaned into her ear and whispered.

Her head swung back to me and I saw that she had been watching Morelli. He had spotted us together. Because I was in a pettier mood than I would have thought myself capable, I draped my arm across her shoulder possessively and guided her toward Celia. I needed to dump the rug rat, and then get Stephanie into my embrace. She went willingly. She felt good under my arm. "Your kid needs a leash," I stated gruffly as I handed Ricky over to my sister.

Celia took him and just smiled at me. Her eyes cut to Stephanie and I knew I wasn't going to be able to get away without the introductions. "CeCe, this is Stephanie Plum. Babe, this is my sister Celia, or CeCe." Celia's eyes bugged out. She looked Steph up and down and didn't even bother to hide that she was doing it. Her eyebrow went up as she turned to me and mouthed 'babe?' and her hand snaked out to catch Stephanie's.

"Come Stephanie, let's sit and get to know each other," she said, pulling her toward a table full of my family. Steph looked to me and shrugged; a look of bemusement on her face. I caught Celia's attention and glared at her harshly and with such displeasure that had she been anyone else she would have shit herself. As it was, she rolled her eyes and laughed it off. "If only, Carlos," she giggled and pulled Steph toward the table. I had no choice but to follow along, to protect her from my family. Shit.

xxxxx

Celia settled herself into a chair with a sleepy Ricky on her lap, and Carlos sat down beside me. In quick succession I was introduced to all the people at the table. I couldn't connect any names with their faces. Too many people, too fast! Celia took aim at Carlos first, not me, and I have to admit to being a bit relieved. Yikes. His family was loud. This sister was as pretty as Marina, and she was as pushy and determined too. Poor Carlos. He looked so uncomfortable sitting there, with Celia telling stories about him as a child. I was enjoying it though. It made him seem a lot more, I don't know, human? Approachable. He really did have this aura of hardness, of implacability. It was kind of interesting to see he got browbeat the same way I did when I was at my parents.

"Enjoying yourself, are you?" He whispered in my ear after a while. I could hear a smile in his tone. Guess he could tell what I was thinking. I shrugged slightly against his arm. At some point he had given up the aloof attitude and pulled his chair close to me and let his body touch mine. Just then, two girls came running at the table and burst into the conversation, breathless with excitement.

Before they could finish trying to explain themselves, Celia had stopped them dead with a look. Shit. She's got the mom thing going big time. "Apologize for interrupting Regalia," she scolded the older of the two. Regalia turned toward the table and mumbled sorry, and the littler one just hung her head and tried to climb into her father's lap. Hilton. I think Celia had said her husband was Hilton. "Stephanie, these are mine; let me apologize again for their rudeness. My oldest, Regalia, and Isabella, my third."

Carlos felt my eyes bug out then I think, because he stated, "She's got two more around here somewhere, Gabriella and Elena. Look for Julie and you are sure to find them." I did a bit of quick math. "Five?" My eyes widened for real. "Yeah, my sister is working toward replenishing the population single-handedly," Carlos replied.

"Huh," she laughed. "Up till this one here, I would have kept going." She nodded at Ricky, and then looked at me. "I had four girls Stephanie, and found motherhood to be a joy. This one little boy has given me a run for my money. Of course I should have known. I had him," she threw her head toward Carlos, "as my practice child. He was my shadow when he was as small as Ricky. He would follow me everywhere."

"Aww, how adorable," I commented, laughing. I could tell Carlos was perfectly horrified by the information being passed along. "Pretty pathetic actually," she replied with a laugh. "My mother was in her late forties when she had Carlos. Oh, and Papa, he was so proud to have an American son! But he was older too. My sister and I were expected to do a lot of the running around as he became mobile. He decided the sun rose and set at my feet. I couldn't shake him. On Friday nights he would sit at the front window bawling, tears running down his face when I would go out on a date." Everyone at the table laughed then, except for Carlos. He sat stone faced.

"Oh get over yourself. You were once adorable and tiny and I wiped your ass, ok?" she looked at him and glared with good humor. "Life's a war; to survive is a struggle," he groaned, finally laughing along with the rest of us.

"Yeah, my big bad army man brother is having all his secrets revealed," Celia chortled. Ricky had been quiet all this time, curled sleepily in his mother's arms, but now he started to paw at Celia's dress. "Muk, mama, muk." He was patting her face, trying to get her attention. Carlos stood and pulled me up with him. He grabbed a blanket that had been lying on the stroller nearby and draped it over her shoulder. "We will give you some privacy," he stated as he leaned down to whisper something in her ear. He smiled at her, pecked her on the cheek and then pulled me toward the dance floor. "Alone at last," he whispered into my ear as we began to dance.


	32. Chapter 32

namespaceuri"urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"  
name"City"/ namespaceuri"urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"  
name"place"!--[if gte mso 9xml  
o:DocumentProperties  
o:AuthorTrish/o:Author  
o:TemplateNormal/o:Template  
o:LastAuthorTrish/o:LastAuthor  
o:Revision2/o:Revision  
o:TotalTime715/o:TotalTime  
o:Created2008-03-17T14:13:00Z/o:Created  
o:LastSaved2008-03-17T14:13:00Z/o:LastSaved  
o:Pages1/o:Pages  
o:Words954/o:Words  
o:Characters5438/o:Characters  
o:Lines45/o:Lines  
o:Paragraphs12/o:Paragraphs  
o:CharactersWithSpaces6380/o:CharactersWithSpaces  
o:Version10.6839/o:Version  
/o:DocumentProperties  
/xml[endif-- 

The Big Chill Aliaslaceygreen

In the Midnight Hour, 8

Contains green and the end challenges

Not mine, not making any money

�

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

�

"Thank god," I groaned into Steph's ear as I settled my arms about her waist. 

"What?" she asked me, an innocent grin on her face.

"That Ricky was hungry. Shit, she would never have been done with embarrassing stories about me. And had CeCe run out she would have gotten Marina to continue."

�

"Aww, poor baby," she whispered, and I think she was mocking me. I glared down at her. Her smile grew. Damned woman, she was. We moved out toward the middle of the dance floor, settling into a slow song. She felt so good in my arms. There were no words necessary; the feelings of comfort, acceptance, and the rightness of being in each others arms—was that love? I don't know, but it was all so transparent between us. But I also knew I had better come clean now. I learned something growing up with sisters, and that was that women needed things explained to death. It wouldn't be enough that I was here; eventually the fact I screwed up and didn't fix it verbally would be held against me.

�

"Babe." I held her tightly to me, dying a little every time she moved in my arms. I pulled away finally, and looked into her eyes. She seemed so content; maybe I didn't need to worry? Don't be stupid Manoso, a voice inside me uttered. She's a woman. "About last weekend. I—Well--- Babe. Forgive me. Please," I finally spit it all out, stumbling over my words like a mad fool. Fuck. Good thing none of the Bloods were witnessing the total wus I was becoming. I'd lose all respect in the 'hood. For that matter, any of my men at RangeMan. I shook my head to clear it of such thoughts and set my mind back to straightening things with Steph.

�

She closed her eyes and rested her head on my shoulder, and we continued to move slowly to the music. She didn't utter a word in reaction. Fuck. This is bad.� I tried again, believing I could explain to her what I was thinking and make it right. �"I don't do relationships." She tensed slightly in my arms. "Babe." I stopped moving and looked at her, my eyes pinning her in place. 

�

"I've never had a successful emotional relationship. With a woman. Like dating or something. I don't know how to do this. How do I fix it, babe?" Fuck. Dig yourself deeper Manoso.

�

Thankfully she chose that moment to look back up at me, and her smile was soft as she asked, "Why?"

"Why what?" I replied, lost already. On the topic of relationships I will admit I am a rank amateur. 

"Didn't you call?" Her tone wasn't exasperated, but deflated.

�

"Work. Babe, my job, it doesn't really lend itself to –this." I waved my hand slowly about the room. "Dating. Being accountable to someone for my time." I continued talking, taking a look about the room. That jerk Morelli was dancing pretty damn close to that redhead who had been in the wedding. He either didn't even notice us, or he was dancing with her to get a rise out of Steph. I watched surreptitiously as we danced and decided he didn't even remember Steph was in the room.� I probably should get her off the dance floor while he was distracted.

�

Making that decision, glad to find I was still capable of making even a small decision where Steph was concerned, I tugged her gently toward an empty table and sat down. Turning my chair toward hers, I pulled her hands into mine and just looked at her.� "I've missed you babe. You don't even know how much you have been on my mind. Almost to the point of distraction."

�

She let her hands rest in mine and just looked at me. Again I felt as if we were alone in the world. �The sounds of the people in the room laughing and talking, the band playing, all of it silenced as we looked at each other. "It'll be ok, Carlos."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

�

I felt strength in his handgrip. It was the type of feeling that told you 'you will never be lost. Never be alone.' And I knew then that whether he made it easy or he made it hard, what I wanted was him. Whether he kept his distance or opened up, whether he passed or failed any and all of the Cosmo quizzes for finding the perfect mate, that he was mine. And I was his. We didn't need to ever act on it. We could walk away now and have our separate lives, but the discovery six years ago that we shared the same heart, the same dreams, that was beyond doubt. We belonged to each other in a way that was not even definable. The end, case closed.

�

I think he understood it too. And then it occurred to me that we needed to set some ground rules. After all, whether or not we were bound by some force that was unexplainable or not, I was a Jersey girl and I had certain expectations if this was going to be more than a theoretical relationship. More than a fantasy relationship. More than---- 

�

"It'll be ok," I repeated. "But I can't just be ignored. You have to keep me in the loop! I thought you had just decided to blow me off. That I wasn't what you wanted. I agonized. I spent too much time with Ben & Jerry this week…I had to go buy this new skirt to wear to the wedding because of it!"

�

If you could see tension slide off of someone's face-- well, I just did. I saw a furrow in his brow I hadn't even noticed disappear. He lightened considerably. "Babe." I rolled my eyes at him as he spoke. That one-word answer crap again. And it was always the same word. Babe. "Don't you know how to say _anything_ else?" I said without heat.

�

His lips turned up slightly; I wanted to think he was cackling on the inside. He reached over onto the table where a tray of hors d'oeuvres sat and he popped something nasty looking into his mouth. I think it was sushi. Yuck. He reached over again and picked up a shrimp and dipped it into a sauce and held it to my lips. What happened to good old fashioned cocktail sauce I thought as I watched him? "Eww, I'm not eating THAT--- it's green!" I made a face and I think he was trying not to laugh out loud this time, but he shrugged and lifted it to his lips and graced me with a sultry smile as he bit down. 

�

Trying again, he reached for another option, lifting it to my mouth. "Green," I said laughing lightly. "Babe. Open." And I did, because I loved asparagus wrapped in prosciutto. I sucked the green tip into my mouth, closing my eyes and moaning at the salty moistness of the two flavors melding together. "Babe," he groaned lowly.

�

The end of the Midnight hour.

�

�

�

�


	33. A Whiter Shade of Pale, pt1

The Big Chill by Aliaslaceygreen

There's smut. Not mine, not making any money.

"**A Whiter Shade of Pale**" by Procol Harum

We skipped the light fandango  
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor  
I was feeling kinda seasick  
But the crowd called out for more  
The room was humming harder  
As the ceiling flew away  
When we called out for another drink  
The waiter brought a tray

And so it was that later  
As the miller told his tale  
That her face, at first just ghostly,  
Turned a whiter shade of pale  
She said: "There is no reason  
And the truth is plain to see."

But I wandered through my playing cards  
And would not let her be  
One of sixteen vestal virgins  
Who were leaving for the coast  
And although my eyes were open  
They might have just as well've been closed

I looked around for a second, trying to find my mother and grandmother. It looked like they were getting ready to serve dinner. Finally; I was starving. Spotting them, my mind wandered to that redhead again as I wound my way through the crowd to get to our table. I realized Steph was nowhere in sight. Good thing, too, or she would probably be giving me an earful about my dance with Red. Red was a provocative dancer; was it my fault that "Low" by T-Pain came on while we were on the dance floor and that she knew how to move her ass to the music?

I could still see her move if I shut my eyes. Shit. I would like to have continued that dance somewhere a bit more private. Hell yeah I encouraged the woman, but still it would be better to not have to listen to Stephanie whine. Not that she probably even noticed. She was off in a corner talking to that jerk Manoso. But at least I saw him introduce Steph to his wife. It's Manoso's balls now if he gets too far out of line in front of her.

One thing less to worry about. Maybe now Steph would come to her senses and get her mind off some schoolgirl crush. The way all the women were pointing and panting over Manoso all night was really starting to get old. What the fuck does he have that I don't anyway? Huh. At least Red didn't seem to mind having me all to herself.

I could hear my mother as I approached our table. Her shrill voice carried pretty far. She was in an animated conversation with a couple who were sitting with us. I pulled out my chair and sat, asking, "Married, who's getting married?"

"Oh, here is my Joey now. Mr. and Mrs. Federico, this is my son Joseph. Joseph, these are Julissa's great aunt and uncle. I was just telling them how I hoped that your wedding to Stephanie would be as lovely as today has been."

I groaned. I leaned into her shoulder and whispered, "Mom. I thought we went over this," I gritted through my teeth. "Don't start while Steph is at the table, ok? She's still really pissed off at me and I don't want to listen to it tonight, ok?" I looked up and smiled and nodded politely toward the couple. "My mother is right, it's a lovely day." "Your language Joseph," she hissed at me, horrified.

Suddenly from my other side my grandmother started. "Joseph. You need to do something about that Stephanie. I saw that whore of Babylon dancing provocatively with another man earlier. He was quite the handsome devil. That is no way for a future granddaughter of mine to be behaving," she railed into me. Shit, when she got like this, even I could understand why people were afraid of her. Her eyes suddenly appeared beady and piercing, not simply deep and knowing. Crap. Here comes Steph now. This is either gonna implode or explode. I don't even know which I would prefer!!

"Grandma!" I squeezed my eyes shut. I am so fucked. Thank god she didn't see me dancing with Red, or Steph would be the saint in this scenario. I would have to listen to twenty minutes of 'Morelli males gone bad'. I stood as Stephanie joined us at the table and was overly polite as I pulled out a chair on the other side of the table from where I had sat down originally. Hey it was only six feet away, but the both of them would keep their mouths shut in front of strangers. I hoped. I tried to peck Stephanie on the cheek, but she pulled her head away at the last minute and sat.

Fuck. She had probably seen us dancing. I sat down and tried to get a feel for exactly what kind of mood she was in. I looked into her eyes, and she seemed far away. She wasn't coming at me with both barrels loaded; maybe I got away clean this time.

Xxxxx

I was getting a splitting headache. I think that Grandma Bella radiated some kind of aura or something; every time I looked her way I felt a pain between my eyes. The disdain and hatred she had for me were almost things you could reach out across the table and touch. And Mrs. Morelli's voice was like a mosquito buzzing in my ear. I gathered that Joe's head was throbbing too, because I had seen his not-so-subtle chair hopping when I came over to the table.

My mind wanted to drift to Carlos, and to the way it had felt as we danced. To the things I learned about him from his sister, to the way he looked with his nephew in his arms; but instead I had to make polite conversation with a bunch of strangers and the Morelli witches.

I had better be careful, and keep track of whatever inane topic they wanted to discuss. I was so pre-occupied I could easily get in trouble agreeing to something I'd hate without any conscious knowledge of it!

I just couldn't push away the feeling of Carlos against me, pressed into my hips, his fingers splayed and wandering slightly along my waist, tickling the small of my back as we swayed in time to the music. Hmm, it was kind of like dessert. Always did believe in that saying, 'Life is short, eat dessert first.' I had started out with cake, served to me from Carlos's finger. I felt myself flush as I thought of the charge that had given me. Then we had moved on to appetizers. Luscious, salty proscuitto wrapped around a stalk of asparagus, tenderly placed into my willing mouth, sucking the juices from his finger. Crap. It reminded me of last weekend, and the other things I had wrapped my lips around. I shook my head to clear it. I better stop this particular train of thought before I got to the main course!

My ears perked up as I heard the scratchy whisper of Grandma Bella's nasal voice, bitching again; probably getting ready to give me the eye for some imagined slight. Oh, fuck! Maybe she saw me dancing with Carlos, even though Joe had been so preoccupied with his little redhead he hadn't noticed. He hadn't made any noise about it. That means maybe he at least remembered we weren't here as a couple. Small consolation for having to deal with his family but…. Grandma Bella was leaning over to Mrs. Morelli and her stage whisper was carrying.

"Joe." I turned to him in a huff of irritation, frustration and curiosity. My tone was low and dangerous as I whispered, "Can you explain to me how, so I don't ask the table at large and embarrass you, how your grandmother can think so lowly of me but expect me to marry you? How can she even want someone who is so terrible a person to be your wife and become the mother of your children? Why does your mother sit there, nodding and agreeing? And why the fuck don't you ever _defend_ me, huh?"

I was building a full head of steam as I spoke. It never had seemed as clear as it did at this moment. I needed to get away from the table before I really did embarrass myself. I wiped my lips and threw down my napkin. Using more force than was actually necessary, I shoved the chair back into the room and stood. Joe pushed his chair back too, and tried to stop me as I rose and tried to get away. I took one step backward without looking where I was going, and smashed directly into Carlos.

"Babe," he stated blankly, his hand cupping my elbow. I looked up, trying to keep my balance and saw his eyes cut back from Joe to me, the tiniest hint of twinkling in his eyes. Why, if he's laughing --.

"You need some air?" He nodded toward the door and I agreed, self-conscious about my little outburst. I looked around him in wonder. Julie was beside him, pushing an empty stroller. Little Ricky was holding one of his sisters hands and toddling along behind him. One of his other sisters was there too, toting his diaper bag. "Are you the Pied Piper?" I asked lightly, trying to gather my wits about me again. I always seemed to be at a loss for words around him. "Bedtime," he said with no emotion, and at that moment, his little girl tugged at my arm.

I looked down at her and smiled. "Hi Julie," I said, paying no attention to the whispering coming from the table. I didn't even want to look back at Joe. I am sure his face was pinched and angry. Good for him. Nothing like the truth. Jerk.

"Are you gonna have another sleepover at our house soon? It was fun!" Julie exclaimed brightly as we turned from the table and marched toward the hallway. Looking up to Carlos for help with that question, I felt my cheeks redden. Our eyes connected and I could feel the fire in his gaze. "We'll see princess," he replied smoothly as the elevator door closed.

Xxxxx

"So, how is it you ended up with bedtime duty," Steph finally asked me. I was conscious of all four sets of eyes watching us as the elevator climbed. "Mom and Dad are dancing," Isabella piped up, with a big grin on her face.

"Ah," she replied and I smirked. "They need some time alone. Ella is up in the hotel room. She gets control of the rug rats for the rest of the night."

"We have our own room Stephanie! Just for the kids!" Julie piped up. She had been thrilled at the idea of having all her cousins around her for the weekend. I think she was lonely.

"You do? That's exciting." Stephanie took Julie's proffered hand and walked along the hallway with us. I wanted to know what the fuck had just happened downstairs. If they aren't together then they shouldn't be fighting, right?

"God bless Ella," I said as I closed the door behind us. The poor woman deserved combat pay for agreeing to come along and handle all six kids. "You brought your housekeeper to a wedding?" she asked in wonder.

"Ella helped raise Craig. The groom," I clarified at her lost look. "She helped raise all three of us, actually. She's more like their grandmother," I said, nodding toward the door down the hallway.

"Babe." I had stopped walking and pressed her up against the wall next to my hotel room door. I touched my forehead to hers and looked into her eyes. "Are you ok?"

"Hmm?" She bit her lip, looking at me, a question in her eye.

"Downstairs."

"Oh. That. It's nothing. Just a moment of clarity." Her voice was small and lost, and it hurt something inside me. I chucked my finger under her chin and pulled her face up to look at me. Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. I reached into my pocket and swiped the hotel key into the lock. Opening the door, I pulled her toward me and backed her into the room. Her eyes got wide as the door closed. "We've been here all weekend, babe."

She shook her head; I guess she was trying to gather her wits or something.

"Yeah. Right. We're booked here too."

"You're staying?"

"Uh huh."

"With Morelli?"

"What? No. Uh, no I don't…. My bags are still in his car. We never checked in yet. I don't know what his plans were." She was tripping over her words, confusion and panic and possibly a bit of lust tossed in the mix, as I was nipping at her earlobe as we spoke.

"Babe. Stay with me. Forgive me. Please." I walked her over to the bed, never letting her out of my arms, stepping forward as she stepped back, my lips on her neck, my fingers trailing along her spine. The back of her knees hit the bed and I leaned down with her as she landed on the comforter.

Shit I was hard already. Every night this week I'd had the same dreams of fucking her till I couldn't think any more. My lips moved from her neck to her cheekbone, dropping soft kisses along her face till our lips touched. God damn it she made me crazy. Her lips were so soft and full, and they tasted of sweetness and sunshine. Our tongues touched and I felt a charge rush through me to my dick. I wanted her with every fiber of my being. I didn't know what to call the feeling she created in me. It was so beyond lust, so beyond slaking a thirst.

Under me, she was moaning softly, thrusting her hips against my erection, her arms running along my back. I let go long of her long enough to shrug out of my tuxedo jacket, one arm at a time, my lips barely leaving hers. Her fingernails began to rake my back, lower now, near my ass, causing me to grind against her savagely. I let my hand wander along her curves, grasping her hip through the silky fabric of her skirt, and my lips slid to claim that spot along her collarbone that was so tempting.

"Babe," I groaned, stroking myself along her body as I tasted her neck. My hand found the edge of her skirt and began its journey to the promised land. My fingers wanted to feel her; to find her wet with desire for me. I wanted to bury myself inside her. I wanted to claim her for my own. The thought that Morelli had caused tears to come to her eyes was pushing me forward. I wanted to remove every tear from her world.

"Carlos," she moaned softly, her breath skimming my ear, "oh, that feels so incredible," she gasped as my fingers ran along the seam of her pantyhose. Shit. I preferred the stockings from the other night. My finger worried the seam, rubbing up and down, pressing into her center. She thrashed under me; her clit must be directly under the seam, I realized and pressed again purposefully and her cry of ecstasy sent me into orbit. "Babe," I groaned, finding access finally and as my fingers dipped inside her I almost came myself. She was dripping honey. Shit. With my other hand I reached to undo my pants, and lifted my hips to slip them off. I could feel my cock straining against her. "Babe," I moaned, rolling her to her side so I could remove her skirt.

My lips never stopped touching her, as I worked to find her zipper. "Carlos," she moaned again, her hands brushing mine away. "Let me." She smiled wickedly, and I rolled over onto my back, my arms under my head as I gazed at her while she stood to remove her clothes. Her eyes ran along me, stopping at my erection, which was pulsing and standing tall. Her tongue ran along her lips as her eyes danced. "No underwear?"

I raised my eyebrow at her and shrugged.

"You know you look incredibly sexy and boy like, lying there, with a shirt and tie and nothing flying on your flag pole," she giggled as she shook her skirt off into a puddle on the floor. Licking her lips again, I could see her mind was wandering to what she should do to me next. Fuck, use your lips, suck me, I thought, closing my eyes as I recalled how she had felt going down on me the other night.

I waited, eyes closed, for her to come to me, climb onto the bed, to stroke me, but nothing happened. I opened my eyes and she was standing, looking over me to all of the luggage that occupied most of the bed.

"I thought you were here all weekend," she asked me, eyeing it again.

"Actually, I had planned to check out tonight. My intention had been to break into your apartment around midnight to see you and apologize, and fuck you senseless. Come here," I reached for her. "Oh yeah?" she taunted as she stepped just out of my reach.

"Yeah," I stated sharply as I sprang to my feet to catch her. Her arms came around me and her muffled laughter made me smile. "Babe. You're killing me here."

"Your bed is too full. Let's sit on the chair," she suggested shyly and I was more than willing as she led me to the overstuffed chair in the corner. God, I could imagine her already, sliding down onto me, my hips barely able to stop from bucking up as she would place her hands on my shoulders, carefully sheathing herself onto me. She still had her panty hose on as I sat down, tugging her toward me. "Babe," I groaned, pulling at them, willing them gone. I wanted to touch her. She stood in front of me, taunting and teasing, "Carlos. Where are the condoms? We'll need them soon."

I threw my head back onto the cushions in utter frustration. "Damn. Damn damn damn damn."

"Carlos?" She came close to me, playtime over. "What's wrong?"

"They're in the car. The fucking condoms are in the car."

"Oh."

"I guess we can only go so far then," she stated, clearly making up her mind about something. She came to me, and kneeled down in between my legs. "Babe. No. Not now." "Carlos, let me," she whispered, reaching out to grab my shaft with her hand.

"No, I want to come inside you, not like this."

"Carlos."

"Let's go dance," I whispered softly into her ear as I pulled her into my lap. "Let's go downstairs and dance."


	34. A whiter Shade of Pale, 2

The Big Chill by Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, not making any money.

"**A Whiter Shade of Pale**" 2

XXXXX

"Where are they? And what the fuck is going on anyway?" The man ambushed me, pulling me into a corner with a strong grasp on my elbow. His eyes were wild and I thought it better I get him into a less crowded location before I took aim at his gonads. I had no idea who he was, or if he was drunk or high or just a lunatic. I hope this isn't a new close relative for my nephew's sake because by the time I finished with him--well, you know it never hurt to have a former Special Ops brother to teach you how to defend yourself.

"Don't you care that your husband is off in some dark corner with my girlfriend?" He hissed at me as he finally let go of me with a shake. It was as if he suddenly woke from some nightmare and realized what exactly he was doing; he looked down at his hands and back at me. The expression on his face told me he was as shocked by his actions as I was.  I looked at him with confusion. I glanced then to the dance floor and sure enough, Regalia was out there trying to teach Hilton some complicated dance step. I grinned at the scene before settling my thoughts back onto this new crisis.

Dating my daughter indeed. She's thirteen! I rolled my eyes before I turned back to observe him again. Who could he possibly be talking about? I stared at him with something akin to pity as it dawned on me. Carlos had not brought a date with him to the wedding, yet he seemed to know Stephanie well. Very well, as a matter of fact. I had wanted to speak with Marina to see if she knew anything about the mystery woman. She actually seemed to have reached through Carlos's impenetrable wall. And that alone was enough to win me over. Stupid man with his _'I don't need anyone' _crap.

I took a decisive step backward into the light. I didn't want him to think I was scared of him but I did want to remind him there were witnesses. I glanced back again at Hilton and Regalia and then turned to the man. "I don't know exactly who you are or what you are talking about, but you should know my daughter is off limits. She is indeed with my husband right now, her _father_," I emphasized as I nodded my head toward them, never removing my eyes from his. "But I can tell you one thing; if my brother Carlos is with someone in a dark corner somewhere, then I can assure you she definitely isn't _your _girlfriend."

Xxxxxx

"Carlos," I breathed down into his ear as he tugged me closer to him in the elevator, "the door is going to open." He responded with a slight shrug of his shoulders, his head still bent to the task at hand, which was slowly torturing me with his lips along my collar bone.

I couldn't believe he had turned me down a few minutes earlier. I didn't know whether to be offended or gratified. I mean, what guy would turn down a blow job, with no reciprocity required? Joe would have jumped on it, that's for sure. Thank you god, for sending me such a remarkable man.

I shivered involuntarily as he continued, his tongue darting out quickly and his teeth nipping at me.  I knew he was attracted to me. Did he think I wasn't good at it? Hadn't I been good the other night? I didn't know what else could be the reason. I also didn't know why I was trying to figure it out while he was slowly sending me to heaven with his tongue skimming my skin. I finally pulled back from him as the door opened and two party goers got on. The look on Carlos's face as I squirmed out of his arms and tried to act nonchalant was priceless.

When we reached the ground floor, he tugged at my hand and pulled me along with him to the reception hall. I laughed lightly and followed along. "Anxious for wedding cake?" I asked him and he turned toward me. His steady, unwavering gaze seemed to bore a hole through me, and I suddenly recalled our earlier conversation.  "Right. Pie man, I remember now," I giggled, my face going bright red. Hmm. So if he didn't mind…

"Babe." He had stopped short and I ran right into his arms. He held onto me as I regained my balance, and then with his arm over my shoulder, he pulled me close to him. His finger caressed my chin as he turned my face towards his and his eyes were black with lust.  "I want to dance with you," he said, his voice husky and low, a promise of so much more than dancing. We walked in silence onto the dance floor, a world of promises in one simple sentence.

I was going to like this, I could tell by the first notes of the song. What song was sexier than _A Whiter Shade of Pale_? His arms around me, my cheek against his shoulder, we weaved slowly back and forth in a darker corner of the dance floor. My mind caught hold of the lyrics and the song suddenly brought me back to the night we met; to the day we discovered our dreams were the same. Both of us dancing in the air, our arms embracing our only support. His other half, he had said. Cripes, this is creepy.

The lyrics, the orchestral sounds enveloped me as I felt the heat of his body flow through me, and all I could feel was pure and utter peace. It went beyond lust. I wanted to touch him, to kiss him and make love to him, but I couldn't begin to imagine what my life would have been like if I had never met him.

I must have tensed or seemed distracted, because Carlos pulled himself back from me to study my face. "Deep thoughts babe?"

"Hmm, no. I was just pondering life."

He raised one eyebrow at me then. "Explain?"

"Just how arbitrary it's all been. Meeting you was so accidental. The years between, the-- I don't know, the serendipity of it all. It's just kind of freaky. I feel like you were always my destiny and yet it was just so random that I found you. How close we came to never knowing each other. And now you're here again." My tone had become melancholy and I was rambling. It was as if all the great truths of my world were appearing one after the other. What a day!

"And you're here, that's all that matters, babe. It's all that matters," he breathed into my ear as he pulled me back into his embrace and we continued to dance. Oh, the way his body molded to mine, I thought as we rocked back and forth, bodies touching everywhere, sending electrical charges through me. One day I might even find out if he _could_ dance. All we've ever done was swing and sway to the music, clinging to each other. I smiled at that thought. I was safe in his embrace.

I glanced at the other couples on the dance floor. I wanted to see if anyone else looked like us. Like they were trying to express something rare; trying to voice without words things that seemed beyond mere verbal language. Hmm. Dancing could be the language of love, I thought with a smile. I caught a glimpse of a mirror, and found myself distracted by the view.

Carlos had the broadest shoulders. I saw my arms draped across him, my fingers splayed open, and they looked to belong to a child, they were so dwarfed in comparison. I gently moved my hand upward, watching as my finger entwined in his ponytail. His hair was so silky. The rich darkness of it held a sheen that women would kill for. It was pulled tightly back, held in place by a leather tie. I closed my eyes, and recalled pulling the tie loose. I could feel the silky, feathery touch of his hair as it fell across his face, as it tickled my bare skin as he kissed me from my mouth on down, wandering, slowly taunting me. Yikes. I needed to stop this train of thought!!

I opened my eyes once more and gazed at his reflection again. My eyes wandered to his ass. Tightly packaged in the black of his tuxedo pants, there was no hiding how incredible it was. I wanted to watch myself as my hands slipped lower, lower, till I found them resting on the slight curve, right there where his back gave way, feeling the muscles moving as he stepped close to me, but thought better of it in public. Sigh. Later, I promised my reflection with a smile. And then I sobered quickly. Joe was heading our way.


	35. Chapter 35

The Big Chill

Aliaslaceygreen

A Whiter Shade of Pale, part 3

I had never known peace, not really. My parents loved me, but they were volatile Latin souls. They were, for lack of a better word, loud. I know they loved each other; now, as an adult I can see that clearly. But as a child there was always an undercurrent of uproar. Of volume. Of spirit. As a boy I didn't see it as love. Or an expression of love. All I knew was it was embarrassing; the way they bickered stridently into the night, their voices carrying on a summer breeze through to the neighbors' yards.

And then they were gone, and I moved to Marina's home, and that was definitely not a peaceful life. Three young boys, and an alcoholic husband who believed being loud-mouthed was proving he was right in any argument.

I found peace one night, in the arms of a stranger; on the dance floor at a fundraiser I hadn't any intention of enjoying. And that peace, it permeated my life from that moment forward.  Not a romantic soul, nevertheless I am certain the peace I had experienced those few magic days before leaving for Ranger school got me through the many hells I visited since then.

I was brought back to the present by a tickle of her soft hair on my cheek. The smell of her skin, her hair, it enveloped me as we danced. My eyes were closed, and I felt every movement of her body like it was my own. All the black thoughts I lived with daily disappeared while she was safe within my embrace. The moment she tensed, I felt it. I opened my eyes to see the object of her apprehension stop his determined stride three steps from where we stood. Fucking great.

Officer Morelli stood watching us-- no, watching her; he must be making eye contact with her in the mirror behind me. I spun us then, dipping her low and staring so deeply into her eyes I felt suddenly stripped naked as she returned my gaze. Baring my soul simply to take her attention from his approach. I wasn't making this easy for him. For her. For us. He would have to step in and make a scene to get her attention. He'd have to do a hell of a lot more to get her heart.

However, I couldn't offer enough distraction to take her mind from the inevitable confrontation there would between them, because of me. But she was mine. And I wasn't about to give in quietly. What I expected the outcome to ultimately be I was afraid to even consider. She couldn't return to his arms. But what the hell had I ever offered her? What _could_ I offer her was the bigger question. Or what _would_ I offer? Nothing had changed in my life, except the knowledge in my head that I couldn't or wouldn't or didn't want to live without her. That was a far cry from actually being willing to do something about it.

Hell, I could get into a fight over her right now. I'd win, no doubt. Morelli would walk away, tail between his legs, and I would have the prize. And what the fuck would I do with it? With her? Is it what I want? What she wants? What _next_? I had no idea any more. My head, my heart; they weren't mine to control any longer. Somehow this little blue eyed vixen with her creamy porcelain skin had wormed her way into places I hadn't known existed.

xxxxx

"Cupcake, can I cut in?" he asked as he stepped into our space, right into my arms. He didn't acknowledge Carlos. He didn't nod hello or offer a smile as he pulled me away. Over his shoulder I looked at Carlos with an expression that said I was sorry, that tried to tell him it would be ok. There was something deep and dark in his expression. Shit. They really could tear each other apart, I thought.

"So?" He hissed at me.

It brought my attention back to him. "What?" I tried to ask lightly, a fake sing-song to my voice.

"What is he to you? You told me he was just someone you knew, from way back. You told me you were just friends."

I couldn't respond because I didn't know the right answer. I didn't know what he wanted to hear, or what I wanted to say. Not to mention, I had no idea what he was to me, other than my life.

"You said, _Cupcake_," he said with malice, his mouth twisted in an angry line, "that you'd never slept with him." He stopped moving, and looked at me. My mouth was doing an imitation of a fish. "Are you just a liar? Or a lying tramp?"

I was like a deer caught in headlights, frozen, with my mouth open. "You slept with him. Recently. Don't deny it."

Still nothing escaped my lips. I was frozen to the spot. "His _daughter_ said so Stephanie!" Shit. So now was not the time to put on a bright smile and give him another one of my quotes about how I like to live my life. '_A day without denial is a day you have to face_' seemed like a good answer, right to the point it would roll from my lips. Shit. Damn. Crap. I had hoped he hadn't picked up on Julie's comment earlier. My stomach rolled, and nothing light and frothy sprung to mind to retort, so I clamped down and kept silent.

I saw Carlos as he stepped toward us. Hell looked like a safe refuge from the storm that was brewing behind his eyes. I had the unnerving sensation that Carlos was aware of every word Joe had just said.  He shifted to the left and set his feet firmly in between the two of us, effectively moving Morelli away from me. Both of them had steam coming from their ears.

This was gonna get bad. Soon, if I didn't do something drastic.  Like choose. Admit where my heart was, what I wanted in my life.

I needed to get this to stop. Or at least have them take it outside. It would be so embarrassing to cause a scene at a wedding! "Uhm, guys? Come on. I looked at each of them in turn as I pleaded for calm. "Let's, uhm, why don't you just let me have a few minutes alone with him, ok?"

XXXX

I remained in a dark corner of the parking garage, watching. I didn't care if they knew I was there or not. Silently I told myself if she crossed this line, if she did this thing, then I knew her heart. As she immediately crossed each boundary, I extended the finish line further and further. I couldn't let her go.

First, I had told myself that if she agreed to talk to him privately; then if she agreed to follow him out of the room; then if she sat down in the car after he opened her door and hovered over her. And she did each and every thing. They had stayed like that for a long time, her face upturned, pinched, her mouth moving silently, him with his hands resting on the roofline of the car, tense, staring down. Now, the finish line was the seat belt. If her hand reached for it; if she willingly locked herself into his car….

The tension I was feeling was so strong I felt my neck bulge, but to an observer, I knew I still had an appearance of nonchalance.


	36. A whiter shade of pale, 4

I had never simultaneously regretted and been so thankful for my ability to read lips as I was at this moment. It was unusually hard for me to watch the turmoil on her face, getting only 50 of the conversation but being able to fill in another 25 by her responses. My heart was torn into pieces every time I saw her cringe; my soul ached as she wiped away every escaping tear with the back of her hand, and my hopes soared to new heights as she gathered herself up and looked at him as if she was about to take charge and walk away. Then his hands grasped the door again with anger, and she shrunk back into her seat.

I was reminded that my Sig Sauer was abandoned with my other weapons in the duffle bag in the trunk of the Porsche, as I found my hand going to my holster. The realization that Marina had probably saved me from murder flashed through my mind and I shook my head slightly in bafflement at her ability to always shield me from myself.

But I still had my bare hands. And what I wanted to do to Morelli, without even knowing half of what he said to her, well, it would wipe off that self-satisfied smile —no, smirk-- he always seemed to wear.

I pondered for the slightest moment if I should feel ashamed for 'listening in' but the more I found out about her feelings for me; the less I cared for propriety. _'….Joe, we are too different. We want such different things.  You're like my favorite faded jeans_…..' What? Faded jeans? Maybe it was hopes and dreams that she said. No, he couldn't be part of her hopes and dreams. Not Morelli.

I shook my head in disgust and turned away from the scene across the garage. Shit, this needs to stop. Don't get involved. Don't take it personally, Manoso. Treat this as just another job; you just need to get Intel. Don't try to analyze. Right now, you are gathering evidence.

And what are you planning on doing with it; with this precious evidence; once it's yours? Frustration welled my gut. A rush of blood pounded in my ears; blocking out all the sounds of the parking garage. _You are your own worst enemy_. I had been told that since I was a young boy. Mami always said it, and Papi took her side. After they died, Marina took up the call. Every teacher; hell, even my drill sergeant stated it. It was as if a sign hung around my neck.

But was there a point of being able to _do_, if others didn't understand why you _did_? If you couldn't explain to someone why you beat up the bully down the street, if you couldn't verbalize the emotions that caused you to want to pummel the shit out of someone, or to use your strength and size and determination to protect someone….

I had allowed myself to be beaten up to protect little Sylvia Rodriquez when I was still a scared skinny little boy, giving her a chance to run away from streetwise punks. I'd beaten up my fair share of streetwise punks myself, on behalf of skinny little boys like me once I'd gotten bigger. And found myself in detention, or punished in my room for months on end because of it. I'd stuck my neck out for Wingnut so he could get 5 days leave to go see his new baby. I sat in the Brig that long weekend. Oh, Sylvia, Wingnut, all the others I'd done the same for, they knew _me_.

They saw something in my eyes as I flung my weight around; verbally, stupidly when I was smaller, and as I grew older, and found I could work out and build my muscles, with sheer physical strength. My intimidating scowl and the size of my biceps tended to be a proficient form of non-verbal communication. I found that people responded the way I wanted, although sometimes not for the right reasons. I was a scary bastard, I had learned. Letting someone see the softer side of me was a way to get my ass whipped when I was little. I was finding out that it was a way to get my heart broken now.

What the hell brought back all of those memories? I shuddered slightly at my loss of concentration; at the memories I had evoked. My eyes tried to connect with Stephanie from the anonymous darkness of the corner I had secreted myself in. Please, babe. Stand up. Stand up from his car, stand up for yourself. I wouldn't dare to hope she'd stand up for me. But she needed to stand up to Morelli.

Xxxxxxx

"Done, Joe. I'm done." I straightened my back, trying to show a sense of strength I didn't feel. My heart and head hurt. I had known him for --well, forever I guess. And while '_I' _didn't necessarily think we should end up together, you know, sometimes you hear something so often you start to believe it at some level.

I closed my ears to his begging. I had heard it all before. From him, my mother, his mother, Valerie. Heck even Marylou couldn't understand fully what I _didn't_ see in Joe. Of course, none of them knew Carlos. Or that he existed in my world. Well, Marylou did. But her husband wiped fantasy out of her life years ago. None truly understood that I loved him.

If they knew I was in love with someone else, would they care? Would they think it was a foolish love? Would they think he was as bad a person as Joe seemed to think?   I believed Carlos when he told me not to ask. I didn't think he was lying to me, or feeding me a line. I believed that he was involved in some serious shit; there was no denying it. After all, I had helped to bail him out of jail!!

Joe was right. We could be good together, I supposed. If I had never met Carlos, if I didn't_ know _what love really felt like, if I had never felt Carlos's arms around my shoulders; if I had never breathed his scent into me and felt peace. Suddenly I had a sense I wasn't alone. I jerked my head to the right of Morelli's hip, and gazed into the dark recesses of the garage, unseeing. And with nothing to guide me except the expectation of finding him there, I spotted the hard outlines of a man watching us.

I knew without further investigation it was Carlos. He was nearby; he hadn't let me walk away from him. Peace settled into my heart. I found my breath settling, calming. My heart stopped racing, and my head stopped throbbing. I gathered my wits about me finally and stood. Joe had to take a quick step back because of how fast in encroached on his space, and as he did I came out from behind the car door.

I didn't speak another word, but stood at the trunk and waited. He looked at me, and opened his mouth to speak then shut again before any more stupid excuses escaped. No, that's not fair. It wasn't just him. Not his fault, not entirely. Possibly it was barely his fault. Could I fault him for me not loving him enough?

It was me. I had betrayed his trust. In my mind we weren't together; I guess the 'not together' part wasn't truly clear enough to get away with having slept with Carlos. And Joe's dancing, and obvious flirting with the red head upstairs; he called it all a ploy to get me to notice him. And I felt some wavering sympathy for him. When he started in again on Carlos though I was done.  Carlos was a good man.

I knew it. He knew it and didn't want to admit it. And we had both fucked up so much, so often that we didn't really have the right either of us to make a scene. "My bag, Joe," I finally stated as he was going to just stand around all day it seemed. As he handed me the overnight bag, and closed the trunk, I turned toward the shadows.  Carlos stepped from the corner and was a few car lengths away.

I looked at Joe, whose eyes had grown vividly angry, and back toward Carlos. He reached me and put out his hand for my bag. Giving it to him, he put his arm around my shoulder and tugged me close to him. We turned our backs to Joe and headed toward the elevator. He bent toward my ear and breathed, "Proud of you babe."


	37. I Feel Good

**The Big Chill**

**By Aliaslaceygreen**

**Not mine, not making any money.**

**A new chapter.**** A Whiter Shade of Pale ended with the last chapter. I think I was the last to know. Challenge responses in here. Smut. You've been alerted.**

**I FEEL GOOD** James Brown

Wo! I feel good, I knew that I wouldn't of  
I feel good, I knew that I wouldn't of  
So good, so good, I got you  
Wo! I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
So nice, so nice, I got you

When I hold you in my arms  
I know that I can do no wrong  
and when I hold you in my arms  
My love won't do you no harm  
and I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
So nice, so nice, I got you

When I hold you in my arms  
I know that I can't do no wrong  
and when I hold you in my arms  
My love can't do me no harm  
and I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
So nice, so nice, well I got you  
Wo! I feel good, I knew that I wouldn't of  
I feel good, I knew that I would

So good, so good, 'cause I got you  
So good, so good, 'cause I got you  
So good, so good, 'cause I got you  
Hey! Oh yeah-a... 

I could hear my phone, trilling softly somewhere deep in the background. But my head was burrowed deeply under my blankets, and my ear was tucked firmly against warm skin. I had fallen asleep listening to Carlos heartbeat last night. No, it would have been early this morning, I considered and smiled to myself as I thought of what had kept us up so late.  I didn't acknowledge the ringing. I was going to stay snuggled like this forever, I had decided. It was the most perfect spot in the entire universe.

Finally, the futility of the task occurred to the caller and the ringing stopped. I was sure if it was important, whoever thought calling at the ungodly hour of—well, this ungodly hour; I was NOT opening my eyes to judge the light; they could just call again. I was staying put. I breathed in deeply and took in the scent of Carlos's skin. Absolute heaven. And lust. It was heavenly lust.

I had learned over the past week that Carlos _always_ smelled like this. It made no difference if he was outside, sweaty from running, or shooting hoops with Julie, or freshly showered, or midway through the day. The aura of Carlos was heavenly lust. I had discovered one morning as I showered at his home that heaven came in a bottle, labeled Bvlgari. It was the most astonishing scent. I was certain it seeped out of his pores! I wish any of the expensive gels and perfumes and lotions I owned would do that half as well. Ah, time for another deep breath. I could get high on this.

"Babe," I heard, or rather felt, rumble through Carlos's chest. It was a soft, sleepy sound, and the vibration against my ear amplified it in an odd way. Guess we're both awake now. His fingers began to run back and forth along my shoulder, and he pulled me more tightly to him as we lay together. He adjusted us slightly, so that my back was snuggled up to his front, and his arm draped over me. His fingertips found my nipple and he began to gently twist and pull on it, as his other hand roamed along my hip and belly. It was a slow, lazy exploration. I felt him grow hard behind me, his cock filling the space between us. It was insistent, pressing against the cheek of my ass, turning me on. I wiggled back at him, enjoying the pressure, beginning to feel that sensation of slow desire rise inside me. He pulled me back more tightly to him and thrust his hips gently against me and I gasped at how hard, how big he felt when we were so close.

"Babe," he whispered again, into my ear this time, tickling me with his breath. His fingers had reached down and were pinching my clit, rolling it between the pads of his fingers. Then he stopped, and moved them down lower, and two fingers plunged greedily inside me as he thrust himself against my ass. I gasped, and must have tensed. "Trust me babe," he breathed into my ear, and thrust again, his cock sliding between my legs. He shifted me slightly and thrust again and I found his fingers pulling out as his cock slid into me and I let out a sigh of pleasure. He began to work his hips, pulling, thrusting, pulling, and his hand went back to workingat my clit, his teeth nibbling at my ear, his tongue lapping at the delicate skin along my neck.

I lay in his arms, satiated and spent, his heavy breathing slowly adjusting to the sudden inertia of his body. His hands reached up and cupped my breasts, and he pulled me tightly against his chest. His voice was velvety as he spoke into my ear, "Happy Birthday, Babe."

"Thank you," I replied automatically, then twisted wildly around to look him in the eye. "How'd you know it was my birthday?" I asked suspiciously. He raised an eyebrow at me, trying in vain to indicate he knew all, but I wasn't buying it. I rolled my eyes at him, suddenly aware of this non-verbal communication that we seemed to use with each other. It's like some strange shorthand. He finally shrugged, admitting he was busted, and nodded his head toward the door.

"Phone call," he murmured. "Someone named Marylou called to wish you a happy birthday. She apologized for calling so early but her kids wanted to sing to you before they got on the school bus." His eyes looked pained as he told me, "They sang. There's a message." Poor guy had to listen to it and I didn't. I laughed then. "Yeah, they love me. I bet Mare put them up to it," I laughed lightly. I settled back into his arms, and closed my eyes. His arms felt so right wrapped around me.

"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday Babe?"

"I don't like birthdays. They just remind me of how quickly I am accomplishing so little in my life. I'm gonna be 30 next year!! I have nothing to show for it but a divorce."

"30, huh? I'll be 30 too."

"But you-- you've been in the Army, you have a career, and your daughter. You've _done_ something."

"Babe."

"Well, you have!! I've just…well nothing. I've done nothing. 29 years of age and I live in an apartment building full of geriatric patients, drive a POS car and have a dead-end job."

"You are a wonderful mother to Rex."

"Carlos," I whined and smacked him on his shoulder playfully, giving him a mock-angry scowl as I did so. As my fingers first touched his flesh I realized I had made a mistake. He rolled over me and began to tickle me unmercifully. The tickling game escalated until we tumbled from the bed and he had me begging him for mercy with me on my hands and knees on the floor. He was the most inventive and sensual of men. I cried out in ecstasy as his thrusts became harder, and his methodical kneading of my breasts, and sucking and nipping along my neck sent me into orbit.

We climbed back up onto the bed and snuggled under the blankets when we were able to find the strength to move again. I must have dozed off, because when I woke again, Carlos was no longer acting as my personal pillow and bed warmer. I felt oddly lost and adrift as I contemplated how quickly I had adjusted my world to having Carlos a part of it. I opened my eyes, and spotted him sitting on the far side of the bed, his head in his hands, his naked back rippled with muscles and not a few scars. But something in the pose didn't inspire lust in me, but gloom.

Xxxxxxx

I awoke quickly, and immediately ran through a list of where I was, why I was there, whether I or anyone else was in danger. As if I were on a mission, all of these thoughts and more flashed through my brain before I raised my head from the pillow, before I took in the expanse of silky leg that peaked out from the pale lavender comforter that covered Stephanie.

As I shook my head to clear it, I tried to figure out what had brought on that mission mentality. I tried to analyze it, because I had learned long ago to listen to the voices in my head. I see disillusioned teens wearing a quote like that on their t-shirts all the time. They think it's funny. The funny thing is it's not so funny. It's a truth in your life to listen to that voice. It had saved my ass too many times to ignore.

So what was the voice trying to tell me?

I sat up and moved to the edge of her bed. I didn't want to disturb Stephanie; it was still pretty early for her, it was the weekend, and apparently, her birthday. And I _had_ kept her up pretty late last night, I thought to myself.

I looked down at the carpet and caught sight of a scrap of black lace. I bent down and retrieved Stephanie's thong, and my mind wandered for a moment to last night, and how I had removed this little scrap of cloth with my teeth. I mindlessly held it in my hand and brought it to my face to inhale her scent. I felt myself quicken; shit, what she could do to me.

What was I going to do next? Stephanie had wrapped herself so inexorably in my life, in my heart, that the mere thought of leaving her this morning to pick Julie up from Marina's tortured me. Flinging the thong onto the rug again, I put my head in my hands and sighed deeply but silently.

I had gone off into myself and almost didn't notice her movements until she was about to touch me. I braced for the feel of her skin, for the electrical charge it always seemed to give me. "Carlos," she whispered into my ear. Her bare breasts were pressing against my back, she was up on her knees behind me and her arms were wrapped loosely around my neck. She rested her head on my shoulder and tried to get me to look at her.

"What's the matter, Carlos? You look like you lost your best friend."

"Nothing," I said, refusing to look her in the eye. I was a coward; I am the first to admit it. I didn't want to hurt her, and I didn't want to hurt me.

"Carlos."

"Babe."

We sat like that for some time. The silence was heavy. She changed her position finally, settling in next to me, and I didn't refuse her when she tried to get me to accept her into my embrace.

"You look so sad. Why are you hurting?"

I remained silent. The gloom that enveloped me simmered, but I could feel the force of her personality struggling to win out.

Gingerly, she spoke after a long silence. "I love you, did you know that? I think I've loved you from the first minute I laid eyes on you." I could hear in her voice how scared she was to make that statement. She had no idea how scared I was to hear her make it.

"I don't know what love is. I don't think I know how to love. I don't think I've ever loved before."

"Sure you do. You love Julie; your sisters…."

I glanced at her briefly. "Do I?"

"Carlos." Her voice was soft, but there was a sharpness to it that compelled me to respond.

"I loved my mother." I was shocked at the uncertain tone in my voice.

"I'm sure you did. And I know you do love Julie. I've seen it with my own eyes, Carlos."

"I am emotionally attached to her, I guess. We don't have a lot of emotional distance between us."

"That's love Carlos. When you are emotionally attached to something…you love it. Or them. Or her." She was trying so hard, I could feel the pain in her voice as I continued to discount what she said. But it had left me reeling.

"Or me," she whispered fearfully, almost on the verge of tears.

"Babe, there's no emotional distance between us," I told her, my voice rough with emotion.

I pulled her closer to me, letting the warmth of her body seep into my frozen soul. Stephanie made me feel things I had no intention of ever feeling. "You are too good for me; do you know that?" I asked her, pulling her face up to look me in the eyes. I could stare into the depths of the blueness of her eyes for a lifetime.

Apparently I had gotten about as deep as I could get in one sitting with her because she suddenly sat up, and with a huge grin said to me, "Tell me about the most embarrassing thing you have ever done." She was almost bouncing with excitement at the idea I would share something with her. God, she makes me smile. Her eyes glinted with a mixture of horror and laughter as I told her that if I shared that with her, she'd be responsible for sharing her most embarrassing tale as well. She gave up pretty quickly trying to find out and jumped off the bed. I would have to keep that in mind for the future. She must have some good stories!

I followed her into the bathroom and she looked up at me in the mirror as she squeezed her toothpaste onto her toothbrush. "Out." She nodded toward the door. "Babe, I'm good in the shower," I leered at her reflection. She cut a glance at the reflection of me standing naked behind her and grinned. I was staying.


	38. I feel good 2

The Big Chill

Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, not making any money.

I FEEL GOOD, 2

I moped around my apartment for the majority of the morning, alone and feeling sorry for myself.  As Carlos had been about to get into the shower with me, his cell phone rang. I looked at him and begged with my eyes to ignore it, but he said that he couldn't ignore that ring tone.

By the time I finished my quick and lonely shower, he was about ready to walk out the door. He had been at the breakfast bar writing a note to me, apologizing for leaving. He tried to pocket it when he saw me come from the bedroom, since he could say goodbye in person, but I wrestled it out of his hands before the carefully folded message got shoved into his pocket, and his tongue got shoved down my throat. God, the man could kiss.

I knew it would be wrong to ask him to stay; or to ask where he had to go. I had implicitly agreed to those rules when I chose to walk away from Joe last week. I agreed that I believed Carlos, that he was one of the good guys. And that if he could, he'd tell me, and if he couldn't, well, I would just have to get over it.

It didn't make my day any sunnier. Not that sunshine was high on the list of the Trenton's To-Do list. It was overcast and just outright blah. I flicked on the TV, and surfed channels for a bit. Fascinating stuff on early morning TV, especially by the time you hit channel 500 or so.  But The Weather Channel said we were in for a Nor'easter. Yippee. Mondays sucked. Eventually I knew I would have to get my butt in gear and get to the office. But I didn't want to. I wanted to sulk. I wanted to daydream. I wanted to luxuriate in the shower with the bottle of Bvlgari that cost me almost a week's spending money.

By 4 o'clock I had almost forgotten it was my birthday. Vinnie didn't seem the type to make a big deal, and I think I was glad of that. He seriously freaked me out. Hard to admit you are related to such skeevishness, but there you have it. My mother had called before I left for work, to remind me that she was cooking my birthday dinner. As if I could forget. It's been the same drill for 29 years!

She probably was curious as to my lack of conversation, but I was busy trying to analyze each word in the short note Carlos had been composing for me before he left. I'll admit I was looking for hints of something. What, I haven't a clue. But I sat there repeatedly and mindlessly running my fingers along the curves of his signature as she began her daily litany of ways I could get Joe back. I knew it was safe to tune out.

'_Babe.__ Sorry I couldn't help you clean up. Thanks for the weekend. I'll call. Carlos.'_ It was so… so, I don't know. Bland. But he felt anything but bland. He felt so much more complex. I could almost imagine a silly happy face next to the shower reference; well, if he were a 13 year old girl. But still, as I read it, I could see the leer he gave me in the mirror, and I was certain the happy face was implied.

The office phone rang, disturbing me from my reverie and I answered in a tone that matched the miserable looking skies.

"Babe," I heard Carlos say. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just blah. This weather, doesn't it make you blah?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, it makes me blah. It's like the Trifecta of blahness today. It's Monday, it's dreary and it's my birthday."

There was dead silence on the line for a moment. I was sure I had just proved to him how stupid I was and he wanted to hang up the phone, but finally he said, "About that. I was calling you to see if I could make it up to you for leaving so suddenly. Dinner tonight?  It would have to be with Julie, but if you didn't mind…"

"Oh, I'd like that. Really. But well--Ok, you know what? Let me make a call and I can get back to you?"

"You had plans." His voice didn't betray any emotion.

"Well, yeah, but with my parents." My god, that even _sounds_ pathetic. I clunked the receiver against my head repeatedly in frustration for sounding like such a dork. "Let me back out, 'k? It'll be fine."

"Mom? Did you start dinner yet?"

"No? Well, uh, I have a date…"

"No, I couldn't bring—"

"Yes, I know. Joe. But yeah, well, mom Joe and I….its not happening, you know?"

"Right. Because of him."

"Uh huh."

"Well he's invited me to dinner for my birthday."

"Mom."

I could hear her clenching her teeth. I could see her putting on that mask, the hostess mask they gave her when she graduated to her own 'Burg apron.  Through those clenched teeth, I heard her ask me to bring him along then, because she was cooking my favorite meal and my nieces had already decorated the cake.

I hung up and put my head down onto the desk in exhaustion. Oh my god. Carlos is going to die. Meeting my family. Hell, his family had nothing on my family.

As we pulled to the curb, the storm rolled in, and the thunder and lightening acted as a foreshadowing of the evening I was afraid we were going to experience. My head throbbed already.  Trying to lighten my mood, because Carlos always seemed unflappable, I cleared my throat and in my best game show announcer voice said, "It was a dark and stormy night…." He just looked at me funny. I was going to have to work on his sense of humor. Thankfully Julie giggled.

We almost made it up to the stairs before my mother got to the door. She and my grandmother stood at the open door, Mom wringing her hands dry on her apron. My mother gave me a look of horror, quickly covered by a tense grin, or grimace, depending on the angle of view, when I introduced Julie as his daughter, but I was supremely impressed and I might even say proud of how Julie behaved.

I wasn't nearly as impressed by my grandmother, who didn't stop leering at Carlos's ass as she followed him into the hallway. This was shaping up to be the perfect disaster!


	39. Chapter 39

The Big Chill

I Feel Good, Three

Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, not making any money

Any challenges you recognize are in here!!

--

I think I could have handled the evening without comment, sitting at the table respectfully and making acceptable remarks regarding a delicious meal and beautiful granddaughters. The few green vegetables Mrs. Plum served had been boiled into submission, and the pot roast seemed to have been swimming in a tureen of fat. The grandchildren, both cherub-faced and curly haired like their aunt, were peculiar. The younger one sat at the table neighing. Her mother Valerie apologized to me and said it was a phase Mary Alice had been experiencing for the last few weeks. A few weeks too many if you asked me, and I offered silent thanks that Julie came to me after that type of growing experience. The other, a prim little girl just a bit older than Julie, tried impossibly hard to behave as an adult. Oddly, I didn't find her behavior any more comforting.

I believe I could have almost enjoyed my evening, trying to coax from a very recalcitrant Frank Plum a story or two of his time in 'Nam. He seemed like he might be an interesting dinner companion, but I sensed he had given up all attempts to wade through the estrogen in the house years ago. I gave him a smile of compassion and commiseration more than once as his feeble efforts at steering the conversation in any direction other than Chambersburg gossip failed. I grew up with talkative sisters, and was used to being outnumbered.

I imagine I could have spent the evening balancing the right amount of feigned interest and appropriately directed commentary to get Stephanie's mother off her case during the debriefing that she was sure to endure the next morning. I believed all these things, right up to the point where Stephanie's grandmother took the stage. Holy shit, that woman is dangerous!

A conversation erupted around me regarding my ethnicity. The obvious choice of asking me was tossed away without consideration as being rude. Therefore, speculative forays into my genetic heritage began. Mrs. Plum had apparently taken me for African-American. I guess it somewhat explained her dour, disapproving face. It was obvious she didn't spend a lot of time around black Americans if she believed I was black. It was equally obvious she had her prejudices about the relationship her daughter was pursuing.  The woman seemed provincial and unable to accept difference. Her grandmother on the other hand, was positive I was a swarthy, full-blood Greek God. Or Italian.

Italian was the preferred choice, from what I could tell from the little blue-haired woman's tone. This conclusion of hers was based solely on memories of a bus trip she and some of her antiquated little biddies had taken through Italy a few years ago. They had visited all the famous tourist hotspots. It was obvious that they had spent the majority of their trip taking in the scenery of the native male species, and attempting to torture them into extinction.  The full package tour included a visit to see David of course. And she was off, a mile a minute about the statue's many attributes. I don't think she had a grasp of Michelangelo's intention.  Then she started in on the ruins of Pompeii. She wanted to know if I had ever been.

After convincing her that I was in fact not Italian, but Cuban, I confessed to having been to Italy while in the service. At which point she leered at me. Yes. She's 5 foot nothing, about 100 pounds of wrinkled, loosely hanging flesh and about a millennium old, and she leered at me when she stated for the review of the entire table, "I never knew you could have sex so many ways!" Something in her eyes, her tone, told me she did in fact know many of the ways, or wanted to practice some of them, and the horrid realization she was possibly sizing me up for her fantasy exploration made my 'nads shrivel in horror.

I could see Stephanie shrinking back into her chair, attempting to ignore her grandmother's cackle. Her mother was beet red, and Valerie was on the other side of the table, gasping. "Grandma! Little ears!" Frank cut his meat, and lifting his fork very precisely to his lips, continued eating his dinner.

Finally finding my voice, I leaned over to Stephanie. "Babe, you've got some seriously scary genes."

Julie turned to Mrs. Plum. "_I'm _Cuban and Puerto Rican. My grandma and grandpa came here before Mr. Castro wouldn't let them leave Cuba anymore, but my grandma never got to see her sisters and brothers anymore. My daddy says Mr. Castro is a bad man. Don't you think he is?"

I listened as Julie changed the subject so deftly, and smiled as Mr. Plum agreed with her. "I was in the service during the Bay of Pigs invasion," he said to me. "I can't say enough about the fact Fidel has relinquished power, come what may." I nodded in agreement, grasping desperately at the straw of possible political debate to distract Mrs. Mazur. She did eventually stop carrying on verbally, however for the rest of the evening I felt like I was being stripped by rheumy blue eyes.

**Mrs. Plum and her mother returned to the dining room after removing our dinner plates. A cake was brought to the table, signifying the beginning of the end, soon please God, of this dining fiasco. It was decorated garishly in pink and purple icing, slathered on thickly, with globs of the frosting attempting to mimic flowers. Stephanie was wonderfully polite and animated in her appreciation of her nieces' efforts. **

**I looked over the sweets spread on the table and came to the sinking conclusion that fruit, my preferred dessert, would be found only as the topping to the pineapple upside down cake and in the banana cream of the birthday cake. While my stomach was silently begging for Maalox because of the damage to my diet, my head was telling me aspirin would only be the beginning of the cure I would require because of the damage to my mental state by Stephanie's family. No, more than that. I felt a drunk coming on, in a way and fashion I had rarely allowed myself in years. I deserved it. I earned it.**

**The girls at least all got along well, and decided quickly that birthday cake could not be consumed without candles and song. The older one flipped the lights as Mrs. Plum lit the last of the candles. I looked at Stephanie then, and her genuine, enthusiastic nature was able to penetrate my somewhat pessimistic brain. I joined in the refrain of happy birthday quite willingly. I especially enjoyed the private show I had created in my mind, while watching the glow of the candles swirl along the edges of the little black dress she wore tonight. She looked like sex on legs in it; it curved along her hips, the skirt swaying gently as she moved. I watched her close her eyes as she got ready to blow out the candles. I imagined her bucking under me as I watched her lick the end of one of the candles clean with her tongue as the lights came back on. My smile was genuine as well.**

**Xxxxx**

**As the girls cheered me on, I blew out all my candles in two tries. I sat down in my chair, breathless with laughter and not a little turned on by the intense obsidian stare that greeted me from my seat mate. Carlos's eyes were not blank right now, not to me. I could see in them the way he looked as he orgasmed. I knew the look; it was the one he gave me this morning as his fingers intently massaged my g-spot. He couldn't tear his eyes away from me. I sighed in contentment as he pulled my chair close to him and his arm settled across my shoulders.**

Gifts of course were embarrassing. My mother bought me a cookbook, "101 Italian Dream Dishes" and she even included a red and white gingham apron to match the red and white gingham table cloth and napkins that were gathering dust deep in the back of the linen closet, from last Christmas. Subtlety is not one of my mother's strong points. When I want Italian food, I come home or find someone to take me to Rossini's….or Joe brings over Pino's.  Brought over Pino's. Joe is over. But Carlos is a Rossini man.

Valerie bought me a positively hideous periwinkle twin set sweater by Sag Harbor. Yikes. Old lady clothes!! Well, maybe not 'old lady' but definitely PTA mom dressing at its finest. Another way to rub in that I was a non-conformist. I rarely dressed up as nicely as I had tonight; I found my Pink Floyd t-shirts to be much more comfortable.

And of course, my grandmother was the one to embarrass me the most. Before she handed me the carefully wrapped box, she looked Carlos up and down and told me maybe I wouldn't need her gift after all. She said she had bought it for me because she heard I was single again. I was deathly afraid to open it, but the girls insisted. I peeked between the tape and the paper to make sure it wasn't inappropriate for their eyes. Ok, it was a shower massager. That could pass. "That one's got five different speeds," she cackled, then looked at Carlos meaningfully, daring him to say something.

The rain hadn't let up by the time we were finally able to escape the insane asylum that is my childhood home. I couldn't believe how embarrassing my family was. I mean, I knew it, but you surround yourself with it day in and day out and become kind of immune to it, kind of like the crazy neighbor with five cats who can't smell the cat box any more. You roll your eyes, ignore the barbs and move on. Sitting there tonight, listening as if I were Carlos myself, I freaked out!! Why hadn't anyone ever told me?? Mary Lou, Joe, well they lived it themselves. They grew up in the Burg, and in and out of my house; they were immunized as well. 

My head was all jumbled by the chaos. I felt lost and adrift. What direction was my life taking? There was that declaration of love I had made this morning. Myself, I was still freaked out about telling him I loved him earlier. It seemed to help him relax. And he appeared to accept it as a sensible announcement. Although he hadn't quite uttered the words in return. But he hadn't freaked out when I said it. That was a plus. That should help me find answers.

I looked at Julie asleep in her fathers arms, and felt a twinge of longing for something I couldn't quite describe. My mind went back to the ridiculous conversation that my mother tried to embroil me in when she cornered me in the kitchen. She couldn't fathom my being involved with a single father, a 'colored' man, when I could have Joe. Joe didn't bring the shame of fatherhood with him. She stopped short of saying the shame of divorce, but only just. And if I continued to tell her I didn't want the same things Joe wanted then I was fooling myself if I got involved with a man like this Carlos. '_He is simply looking for a maid and a mother for that poor little girl so he can run off and do this dangerous job he was telling your father about. That is not a sensible course for a man with a family to take, Stephanie_.' I didn't even bother to try explaining Ella to her. I pulled open the door and helped him to get her under the seatbelt in the back seat. "Guess the girls wore her out." I turned my eyes again to Carlos as I stood up, holding the umbrella high over our heads.

**"Babe."**** I giggled reflexively. I loved his voice. Just as soothing as any lullaby, the way he whispered 'babe' was enough to make you trust him to lead you to safety through the woods when you were lost. There was faith in his voice that caused you to follow his lead, to want to make him happy. His voice would draw out the darkest of fears and calm them; his voice offered gently soothing sounds encouraging you to move forward. All that I heard, every time I heard him utter the word 'babe'. **

**But this time, I heard more. I heard a level of disbelief that he had just suffered three hours with my family, and I heard payback is a bitch. As he closed my door and walked around the car, I considered what payback I might be required to provide, and I smiled. Slamming the door shut, Carlos reached over the console and pulled me to him, to start collecting, and as his lips touched mine, sending the heat of anticipation soaring through me, I heard his muffled curse as his phone rang.**


	40. Chapter 40

_THE BIG CHILL, not mine not making any money…._

_Aliaslaceygreen_

I feel good 4

I woke up because the sun was shining into my eyes. I stuck my head under the blanket and squeezed my eyes shut tight. Why did I have my curtains open? It was a Saturday. I shouldn't have to wake up so early. If Daddy knew I was awake he would want to go running. I didn't mind it too much, because I got to be with him that way, but he liked to run _forever_. I tried to think about what we could do today after I finished my homework. Daddy was home this weekend. He didn't have work. Then I jumped out of my bed and screeched really loudly, jumping up and down. I just remembered!!

It was Halloween!! I was so excited.  I looked at my closet door and smiled when I saw my costume hanging there. It was in a black plastic bag so Daddy couldn't see it. I wanted to put it on now, but I knew if I did Daddy would get grouchy. It probably wasn't a good idea to get him grouchy so early in the day, because there was so much fun stuff happening today, he should stay in a good mood.

I giggled then. Daddy wanted to know what Stephanie and I chose, and we wouldn't tell him. It was really funny. I got really good at pretending I couldn't hear him all week long when he asked me what our costumes were. His face would get all scrunched up when we both pretended to zip our lips closed and throw away the keys. But I think Stephanie was right. He was gonna be grouchy most likely, after we got him to put on his costume. I didn't know _why;_ he was gonna look perfect. But he liked to growl and scowl and be scary. I smiled again. I _knew_ it was the right costume, he just didn't get it. Silly man, Stephanie said to him whenever he scowled at her. Silly Daddy, I agreed.

Stephanie and Miss Ella said Daddy just didn't have a lot of imagination. I pulled Mrs. Wabbit under the covers and snuggled with her while I thought about how Stephanie and I decided on costumes.  She took me to the coolest place in the world I had ever seen! It was a store just for Halloween. It was big and had scary sounds playing instead of music. The dressing rooms looked like haunted house doors, but there was a lot of fun stuff too that wasn't scary. We went there two times, but we never took daddy. The first time we took her nieces too, and we all walked around trying to decide on costumes for all of us. We could be almost anything!

And Stephanie was really cool to go shopping with, because she let us try on every costume we wanted. I came up with three things I really, really wanted to be. I wish Halloween was more than one day, so I could be a Princess, a Power Puff Girl and a Smurfette. They were all neat costumes!

Then the next time we went, we looked at all the grown-up costumes. Stephanie thought she and Daddy should wear costumes that went together. I thought he should be a superhero. They had cool costumes for Superman, and Flash Gordon and Batman and Spiderman, and they were all stuffed to make muscles. I didn't think that would work for Daddy though because his muscles were really big already. They had an Incredible Hulk costume, but Steph didn't think Daddy would like being green. The Hulk is grouchy a lot, I reminded her. But she said there really wasn't anything for her to be then so no Hulk. She could be Lois Lane if he was Superman though. But she didn't think Lois Lane had a good costume, and I looked at it. She was right. It was a boring costume. She would look like a schoolteacher, and that is definitely not a good costume.

The Batman costume seemed perfect. Daddy's favorite color was black, totally not blue or red like Superman and Spiderman, or green like The Hulk. And Batman made mean growly faces a lot. He didn't look friendly in the movies, he looked angry. That was my daddy.

Besides, if Daddy was Batman, Stephanie could be Cat Woman. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be her or Wonder Woman, but we both thought I should be Robin. Even though Robin was the _Boy_ Wonder, Robin is a girl name too. Stephanie decided it was a good plan, so we bought all of them. I had to promise not to tell him what his costume was till it was time for him to change for the party she wanted us to go to. I told her that wasn't a problem; I was sure Daddy would have to work tonight if he knew too early. Daddy always seemed to have to go to work when he didn't want to do something. Stephanie said she had a backup plan to keep him from chickening out, but she wouldn't tell me what it was. I bet it had something to do with kissing though. Yuck.

xxxxxxxx

I groaned at my reflection as I got into the shower. What had I gotten myself into? Stephanie had already showered and was going to change into her costume. She said she'd lay mine out on the bed while I showered, kissed me jauntily on the lips and closed the door in my face. Julie was down in the kitchen with Ella, sorting out all the candy and crap she had accumulated during our trick or treating earlier. Now she was in charge of answering the door. She wouldn't take off her costume. I had been surprised by what she was wearing when she came down the stairs. Robin? It was an odd choice; I figured she'd want to be some fairy princess, because that's how she ran around the house all the time, in glittery wings, sequins and ballet slippers.

I still couldn't believe I had agreed to go to a costume party with Stephanie tonight. And I was astonished I hadn't been able to convince anyone to tell me what they were planning as my costume. The harder I tried the more insistent everyone became at hiding things. I knew it was going to be bad. Even Julie wouldn't budge. She was keeping god-damned secrets from me. When I tried to wheedle the info from Ella, she laughed at me. I complained that Julie was being sneaky and she told me to get used to it, she was my daughter. That's what children do with their parents. "God knows the three of you boys kept secrets from Marina and I." Her eyebrow shot up as she stared at me, challenging me to deny it.  She shut me up, as she expected.

I toweled off and walked into the bedroom, to find my comforter covered. Batman? No. Absolutely not! She must be kidding me, I thought, almost afraid to touch the black stockings that were lying on the bed next to a black, fabric-covered molded chest. And Robin. I groaned. Cute. Batman and Robin. Damn them both, they knew I would do this for Julie's sake.

I looked at myself in the mirror as I tugged on the costume. Fuck. There is no way I am wearing this. She's kidding me. Good God, if one of the Bloods were to catch me dressed like this…or even fucking Tank. I turned to view myself from one side then the next. The fucking leggings cupped my ass. Jesus Christ, you could see my balls. No fucking way. And the top, the upper part of the costume, it was lined with fake pectoral and bicep muscles. I couldn't even get my arms into the sleeves until I realized the biceps could be un-Velcro-ed. Turning again as I tugged it back on, I decided if it closed without removing them, I'd leave the washboard stomach and pecs intact; I wouldn't have to worry so much about my posture. I noticed that the straighter I stood, the more it looked like I was advertising my family jewels through the cheap fabric. This was not a G-rated costume. What the hell were they thinking? And what the hell was Steph planning on wearing?

I heard the door unlatch and a gasp of amazement come from across the room. I glanced into the mirror as she came behind me and I almost swallowed my tongue. She was dressed as Catwoman. I looked her up and down, appreciating what little there was of her costume. Her hair was still wet, the curls springing and bouncing along her shoulders.  She stopped at the bed to pick up something and then strode over to me. I stood rapt, watching as the tight black costume hugged her every curve. She wore the tightest, shortest mini-skirt I'd ever seen. It gave new meaning to the phrase 'little black dress' that was certain. Her legs were sheathed in black thigh highs, and a pair of what she referred to as FMP's caused her body to arch deliciously as she slinked my way. She snaked her hands around me and purred into my ear. She placed the mask in my hands, and purred again, rubbing her front against my ass. Shit.

I looked at myself with the cowl on. Well, maybe I could go out, if I stayed away from the 'hood. No one would be able to ID me. Her hand ran along my shoulders, down my chest, and as she purred she pretended to admire my foam muscles. Then her hand snaked down and she grabbed my cock through the thin fabric.

"Babe."

"You don't have your pants on, Batman! What are you trying to tell me?"

"Pants?" Thank you, God. Pants. She grabbed a scrap of cloth and handed it to me.

"Those are swimming trunks." If that.

She arched her brow and looked slowly down my front, stopping as she got to my now throbbing shaft.

"I think you need it. Support hose. Think of it like that. A utility belt of sorts." With feline grace she pulled away from me, laughing. She was so dead.


	41. I Feel Good 5

The Big Chill, by Aliaslaceygreen, not mine, not making any money….

I Feel Good, Part 5,

"Right over there," I stated, pointing to the bright yellow building.

"The Sunshine Children's Place? Babe." I watched as Carlos's face conveyed something along the lines of torture as he figured out more about the evening's festivities. Hey, while I was impressed I got an emotion at all; it was just too bad if he wanted to chicken out.

"It's a tradition," I told them both as he aimed the remote at his Porsche. I picked up the bag with the parts of his costume he refused to wear in public and smiled at Julie. "Silly man," I mouthed to her as we started to walk toward the door. Julie and I didn't care. We were dressed to kill, right up to our black sequined masks. It was Halloween after all.

I was nervous about this suddenly. I realized that I was exposing Carlos to more and more of my life, like a couple would. Mary Lou! Oh, crap I forgot to warn her about Carlos being here. She better keep her mouth shut. If she embarrasses me in front of him--. Shit. What was I thinking? Dinner a few weeks back had been bad enough, but at least that meant Val wouldn't go drool-faced or anything. But Mary Lou had a low tolerance for hot men and romance. She could faint dead out, once she connected all my stories about Carlos with the man himself. Especially dressed as he was. Hot. Batman had been an inspired choice for his costume, although I knew he was horrified. I was shocked we had gotten him into it.

I decided filling the air with chatter was the way to go. Hey, it's always worked for me before. "We do this every year. My friend Mary Lou, Valerie and me. We were Girl Scouts and had to earn a badge for community service. We came here and did face painting for the kids. It was fun and so we kept it up. I don't cook or anything, you know? Doing the soup kitchen, serving Thanksgiving dinner or stuff like that, it's not really my thing. Halloween though. Come on! It's fun. Look at us!" I laughed, and waved my hands vaguely through the air, taking in our finery.

Carlos did truly look fine. It was quite entertaining that he chose to keep the cape on; entertaining but sad, as I couldn't get a glimpse of that tight ass of his. I sighed at the memory. He was watching me and I saw a knowing, almost-smile crack the blank façade of his face. His eyes had roamed up and down my costume more than once since I got dressed earlier. I could feel him undressing me. Hmmm, the after-party may be fun too!

--

As I was painting a butterfly onto a little pink rabbit's cheek, I looked across the room and smiled. Batman and Robin looked absolutely adorable together. I hoped Mary Lou remembered her camera. Too precious. She was going to have to sneak a shot. He would want to kill me five different ways if I tried to get a picture; I knew that without a doubt. "Mare," I said quietly as she designed a lion's face on a little boy. "Grab your camera when you can, 'k?" I nodded to where Carlos and Julie were standing together; a bunch of other little kids hovering around them totally impressed that Batman and Robin came to their party. He seemed to be enduring it with good grace so far.

"Steph, I have to tell you," Mary Lou said as we waited at our painting station for another child to come over, "I thought you were crazy. I thought you had lost your marbles. I mean, Joe Morelli is so freaking hot. I mean, look at my Lenny, and then look at Joe. I thought you were freaking crazy to walk away from him. But,yowza! Girl, I am jealous. Pea-freaking green with envy." She fanned herself as she turned, doe-eyed, to look at Carlos. I could actually see her drink him in. Then I realized that's the same face Grandma Mazur was making the other night. Fuck, she's not drinking him in; hell she's fucking undressing him!! I laughed as I smacked her on the shoulder. "Tongue in, Mare!! Hands off."

"Look, no hands," she laughed. "But I bet he knows what to do with his hands," she said on a sigh. I turned toward the children playing musical chairs on the other side of the room, because I knew I was turning red. I could feel the flush creep from my chest up to my cheeks.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The party was winding down, or at least I fervently hoped it was. The kids were becoming more and more hyper. How can people allow their children to ingest so much sugar? Julie had been hitting the sweets pretty heavily herself. But it was much more of a special occasion for her; sugar was not normally something I let her overindulge in.

Julie was running around with a bunch of kids, enjoying herself immensely. It was nice to see her smile as much as she was today. It was an infectious, gap-toothed, crooked grin that she had, and it tugged at me sometimes.  Halloween. I hadn't celebrated Halloween in eons.

Last time I acknowledged it, it was more in line with Devil's Night than Halloween. Shaving cream, eggs, TP'ng, even all that had been child's play. We were the cause of some pretty hellacious vandalism around Newark some Halloween eves. But I remembered back further, and recalled being so excited because I was going to be a cowboy for Halloween one year. I could see the big white hat sink low on my forehead, and my grin was somewhat toothless, if was thinking of the right time.  I hadn't thought of that for years. As with many other things, having Julie in my life made me recognize and appreciate a totally different set of experiences.

--

Stephanie was clearing up the tables. I looked around at the parents and social workers in attendance tonight, and realized that doing something like this, for these kids, really was pretty far outside what I would have thought was Steph's comfort zone. The children here were mostly minorities, and very obviously in the lower income level. Lower social level too, to be honest. It didn't seem that they would have the options that we had all taken for granted. I was glad Julie had the opportunity to see that not everyone was as lucky as she. On her part, it seemed she was immune to the differences. They were just kids, having the time of their lives.  The Spanish was thick in the air, and I had conversed, as Batman of course, with a number of children who didn't speak any English.

"¿El Batman, Batman, puede usted viene dice hola a mi madre?" I looked down at a small boy dressed as a pirate who was tugging at my cape, trying to pull me to the corner of the room. He was pointing to a hugely pregnant woman, with a tiny witch clinging to her neck. "Mamasita, mamasita, mira! Esta El Batman!! Mira Mama!" his voice was filled with excitement and I looked back at Steph and shrugged as I was pulled away from her.


	42. Chapter 42

The Big Chill, Aliaslaceygreen, Not mine, not making any money

I Feel Good, 6

I pulled up a chair and straddled it, pushing the cape to the side so I could sit yet still have it cover my ass. This superhero shit was for the birds if they insisted on wearing these fucking tights. I leaned my chin on my forearm and studied Stephanie as she moved about the room, tidying up, talking to adults and children alike, smiling and lighting up the room with her laughter. She just had no idea how alluring she was. It looked like the party would put itself out shortly; we were going to sit it out on the sidelines and wait.

"Babe. You're good with kids," I said as she finally took a seat beside me.

"Eek, shudder!" she said, and laughed. "No, kids are scary."

"Babe."

"They are. They smell. And poop. And screech and jump up and down and whine. And you have to have them first." At that she actually _did _shudder. "You never saw my friend Mary Lou nine months pregnant with her son--God Carlos, I know you can't shove something that …well, never mind," she said, and I saw her face go pink before she turned away in embarrassment.

"Babe." I reached my hand out to touch her cheek. She looked at me and I had to laugh at her discomfort. "So, no house full of screaming toddlers for you?"

She blanched. "Oh, God, no!"

I nodded noncommittally, but I can't say I wasn't relieved to hear that. I had fucked up this whole being involved thing so badly already; I didn't want to step in any more shit on purpose. And I knew a lot of women's purpose in life was to snag and bag a man, with or without his consent and desire. Now, I desired Steph. A lot. And I knew a few things about myself. But do you discuss that kind of heavy stuff this early? And if you wait and then find that you are at cross purposes--what then? One of you has to give in, or you have to go your separate ways. And children, well they shouldn't be a bargaining chip.

I hadn't ever had any intention of children. I accepted my responsibility with Julie because that's the way I was raised, and I thought I was doing a fair job of parenting now that I was saddled with it, but it hadn't been on my life list of things to do. Knowing that Steph felt somewhat the same way was a relief. At least I think what I heard her say was that she didn't want kids. It's how it came off, anyway. It's a start of the conversation. We've only been together a few weeks. It's not like it all needs to be worked out tonight. Only a few weeks, I thought to myself again. Then why does it feel like she's been with me all my life?

xxxxxxx

I looked at him and smiled. Wow, this is getting deep. We will need to really talk sometime. Not now, in a room full of overly excited little brats. But I don't think I'm mommy material.  Really. I mean, yikes!  He looked relieved though, when I said I didn't want kids. Suddenly, I could hear my mother's voice echoing in my head, saying how Carlos was looking for a maid.

I looked at him with a question in my eye. "You're a parent though. You already have a child."

"Doesn't mean I like kids. Doesn't mean I want more, Stephanie. I've been up front with you about how I came to acquire Julie. It wasn't my choice. It's my duty, and I will attempt to do it well, and probably I'll learn to enjoy it. But Julie was accidental. If I bring any other children into this world, they will not be unplanned."

"But you love her." I know he did. He seemed conflicted by the knowledge he loved her, but we had done this already, gone over all of it. He didn't think he could love. I thought differently.

"I do. God knows I do. I don't pretend to understand her, or necessarily like her all the time, but I do love her. And I'm surprised by that." He looked directly into my eyes as he spoke.  We had this odd connection, it was as if I could understand the deepest parts of what he was trying to express without his having to say it. I allowed him to keep his pride intact and decided to let the subject drop.

"Speaking of Julie, here she comes," I said to him and nodded my head slightly in her direction. I thought maybe talk of her being a boo-boo should probably be shelved right about now. He turned toward her and suddenly sat upright.

Julie came to us slowly, dragging her feet. "Princess, what's wrong?" He said to her as she took his hand and climbed into his lap. "I don't feel too good, Daddy," she mumbled, burying her face into his neck.

"Aw, Jules, what is it," I asked.

"My tummy is all jumpy."

I reached over to feel her head. "She's clammy, Carlos."

He looked at me with desperation. I could tell he was out of his element. "You've probably eaten too many sweets," I whispered gently as I swiped her bangs off her forehead. "You'll feel better, I promise. Let's go to the bathroom, 'k?" I stood and took her hand, and leaned over to Carlos. "Why don't you get the car? We'll see if a trip to the little girls' room helps." The relief on his face was palpable.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Babe." I turned to Stephanie with an apology on my lips, but she just put her finger to her mouth and shushed me. She shushed me! What my world had turned into! I couldn't even walk Steph up to her apartment, because Julie was curled up in the back seat. She closed her door carefully and came around to my window. Standing at the curb, I admired her legs, wrapped in the black pantyhose I had been fantasizing about pulling off with my teeth all evening. But instead it looked like I was going to be playing nursemaid. She leaned into the window and I kissed her gently on the cheek, and murmured good night. I watched with barely reigned desire as she sauntered up the steps, her heels putting a sway into her hips that made me smile. My smiled faded as I glanced into the rearview mirror. Julie looked uncomfortable, the seatbelt cutting into her neck, and her skin looked pale even in the darkness.

Xxxx

I carried Julie carefully up the stairs when we got home. I switched on the light and lay her on her bed. I pulled off her shoes and socks then lifted her gently to get her tights and the rest of her costume off. She was droopy with sleep, like a little rag doll. As I looked around the room to find her pajamas, I dialed my cell. Marina could tell me what I should be doing for Julie. I was afraid to let my mind wander to where it wanted to go.

I hung up after a short conversation and muttered to myself. Marina barely calmed my nerves. And Ella was gone for the rest of the weekend. As I pulled the top over her head, she tumbled into me and lifted her arms up helpfully in her sleep. "Sweet dreams, Princess," I said as I bent to kiss her on her forehead.

"No, stay, Daddy. I want you to stay with me."

"Julie."

"Please. My tummy still hurts."

"Ok. Just till you are asleep, ok?"

"'k."

I got up to turn out the light, and pulled up the covers over her. She tracked me with sleepy eyes as I handed her Mrs. Wabbit and took off my boots. I had just realized I was still in my costume. She should be asleep shortly, and then I could get out of this stupid getup.  I stretched out on the bed, scooping her into my arms and holding her close.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Princess." I do, too, I thought. What I had said to Stephanie notwithstanding, I loved her.

"I had fun."

"Me too."

"Sorry I got sick."

"Too much sugar. Your Aunt Marina thinks that's it, too. She said you'd feel better tomorrow."

"Good." She snuggled closer to me and sighed. Her breath grew steady and I thought she was falling asleep when she spoke again.

"Daddy? Why do they make sugar bad for you? Why do they let little children have it if it's bad?"

"Too much is bad for anyone. For some people even a little is bad."

"Like me?"

"No, not like you. You had too much tonight, though. Your stomach is telling you it's too much. Your Grandpa Manoso couldn't have any sugar. It made him very sick. He had to have a shot every day in his thigh so he wouldn't get sick."

"Does sugar make you sick too? Like Gran'pa?"

"No, why?"

"Cuz you don't eat any sugar hardly."

"I don't want for it to ever get that way, so I'm careful about sugar."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

We both must have nodded off. Julie was still clammy and her hair was plastered to her head when I awakened. She didn't have a clock where I could see it, but it had to be late. She was asleep, but was restless in my arms as I tried to put her down and go to bed myself. "Night, Princess."  I whispered and tugged the covers over her and her rabbit.

"Daddy." She sat up quickly and threw both hands over her mouth. "Daddy!" She looked at me over her fingers, her eyes wide with fear. Oh fuck, she was going to hurl. I had barely grabbed her up when she let loose. Shit. All over me and her bed. Crap.

I carried her into the bathroom, sat her down on the edge of the tub and handed her a wet wash cloth to wipe her face as I stripped her clothes off, trying very hard not to grimace. I peeled off my cape and shirt while I was at it. I adjusted the shower to a comfortably warm level, and helped her under the spray, all the while trying to calm her down, because she was whimpering and carrying on. Grabbing another wash cloth, I washed her down briefly and then wrapped her up in one of the huge towels Ella kept available. I carried her toward her bedroom door before I remembered the state of her sheets and pivoted toward my room.

"Just for tonight, Princess," I murmured as I settled her on my bed. She nodded and curled up under the covers. "I'm going to shower, ok?" I told her softly as I glanced at the clock. 2:06 am. I shook my head, and went into her room to at least strip off the sheets. I had no idea where Ella would keep new ones, but at least I'd done that much. Jesus Christ. I far preferred the idea of battling the Bloods with rusty knives than dealing with sick kids.


	43. Chapter 43

The Big Chill, Aliaslaceygreen. Not mine, not making any money

I Feel Good 7

I opened my eyes. The sun was almost up, but the moon still hadn't gone away. I remembered where I was now. I had gotten sick on Daddy last night. Whoops. I had on one of his black t-shirts instead of my pajamas, but at least Mrs. Wabbit was with me. I squeezed her tight. I hoped I wasn't gonna have to stay in bed all day. I looked at my Daddy. He was still asleep, and his eyelashes were really long and soft looking on his face. He needed to shave, too. I rubbed my hand on his cheek to feel his beard. It tickled.  He grabbed my hand very fast. "Stop," he growled, but it was only his pretend growl. I giggled and snuggled close to him.

"Feeling any better Princess?" he asked me as he held me tight. "Uh huh." I nodded my head. But I wasn't tired anymore. I wanted to get up. I was hungry.

"Daddy?"

"Sleep, Julie."

"But I'm hungry.'

"Julie." He groaned and rolled over to look at his clock. "Baby, its only 5:15."

"But Daddy, you get up early all the time."

"I didn't get much sleep last night, Princess. Let's wait a bit, ok? Ella isn't here to make you breakfast. Today it's just you and me, kid."

"'K," I mumbled. I pulled Mrs. Wabbit to me and rolled over in Daddy's arms so I could watch him sleep. Mrs. Wabbit's ears were fuzzy, and I tickled my nose with them as I watched him till he was finished sleeping. He opened his eyes again after a few minutes.

"Why are you staring at me?" he said.

"How can you tell I'm staring? You had your eyes closed." 

He just stared some more.

"Maybe Stephanie could come over," I said hopefully.

He looked at me. "You think so."

"Uh huh. She likes to be here. She likes you. And she makes you smile, Daddy."

"She does?"

"Yup."

I took my fingers and traced around his face, playing with him. His eyebrows were thick and dark, and his eyes were brown and his smile was like a secret, but I knew what it looked like.

"You are the most handsomest man in the whole world, Daddy," I said to him as he grabbed my fingers to stop me. I guess it tickled him. He looked at me and he put up one eyebrow the way he does sometimes. I can't do that.

"All the mommies at school say so, too."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

I chuckled slightly. It was something I had learned to ignore long ago. It probably had started when I was 11 or 12, whenever it was that girls started noticing boys. Certainly it was before I noticed girls. They swarmed all over me, and it was the cause of many an ass-kicking I had suffered over the years, till I decided to take charge, and take advantage of the situation.  I had been very popular with the girls from then on. But it never meant much to me.

I had noticed but ignored the overt staring and obvious flirting since Julie had started at her school. Heck, it hadn't let up the whole time I was sleeping with Elizabeth; why I would expect it to stop suddenly because I had Stephanie in my life I didn't know.

Tank couldn't understand why it pissed me off; I personally think he wouldn't mind having some of the attention. Women tended to be scared of him, and for some reason he thought them pawing all over you, simpering and carrying on all the time would be enjoyable. Fool. Then again, my buddy Lester lived for it.

It just irritated me. They were no better than when they were 12, just more sophisticated and more direct. It was obvious that their attention had nothing to do with me, just what I looked like; and now, how I'd perform in bed or what I could buy them. They liked my muscles, my long hair and my fast cars. External crap, that didn't tell them a thing about me.

They were petty little bitches, unhappy that their man simply provided them a good life but might be carting around a few pounds or was going bald early. And they say men are shallow. I shrugged it off internally; it's not for me to solve the world's issues this early in the morning.

At least Julie must be feeling better. I hadn't slept well last night; I let my worries over her sickness torture me. The specter of diabetes always hovered just beyond my consciousness, but for me. I'd never truly considered Julie's frailty. Fuck, I'm a wimp!  I figured if I held her close, we could get another hour of shut-eye. But she couldn't stop playing with my face and mumbling to the damned rabbit in her little secret language. I guess sleeping in wasn't an option.

I responded to her comment absently. "Do they?"

"Uh huh. I'm gonna marry someone just like you when I get growed up."

The hell you are, I thought, but I only replied, "I thought you were planning on staying here."

"I am, silly. We'll get married and then live in my room. Miss Ella would miss me if I left."

I will miss you too, I thought, but I just nodded. "I bet she would," I said and closed my eyes again. She reached up and kissed my cheek. She was quiet for a few more minutes and then she twisted in my arms again.

"Daddy can you call Stephanie now and have her come over? I promise I'm feeling better. I won't eat any of my candy so I get sick again, please?"

"It's 5:30 in the morning. She's asleep," I grumbled from frustration or exhaustion, I didn't know which anymore. "Why do you want her here so badly? Why don't you want one of your friends to keep you company?"

"Stephanie is neat. And she's fun and pretty. And you love her. You could get married and get a baby for her too. And she could be my mommy, and then she could live here all the time. She always smiles at you when you aren't looking. I see you smile at her, too."

I was startled by that. I didn't realize that I allowed my emotions to show. I placed a kiss on the top of Julie's head, took a deep breath and pushed myself up against the pillows. For the thousandth time I questioned why anyone would _want_ this job. Then she looked up at me with a heartrending smile that could melt a glacier.

"Everyone has a mommy but me. It's not fair. You love her, I know it. I just know it."

Oh, fuck it; she was going to start with that whining crap. She knew I had a low tolerance for that shit. Jesus fucking Christ, are we going to do this again?? It's become a broken record. Marina harasses me, Ella harasses me, CeCe harasses me. Now Julie?

"Julie. We've talked about this before." She's the only one I have any control over, I should work on her. She can get the rest of the Manoso women in line. I chortled inside at the audacity of the idea. They were impossible to control! But the thought did at least soften my response.

"I am not interested in getting married again. I know you feel like you should have a mother, but I'm not marrying someone just so you have one. People get married because they love each other, not because they need to fill all the roles of a family. A family is a family no matter how many people there are, Julie. You and I _are_ a family."

"But you _do_ love her."

Do I? I have no clue as to what that really means. I had tried to convince Marina of this concept more than once. I can't imagine arguing the point with someone under the age of 7.

"I do enjoy spending time with her. But I only have just started to see her. That's too soon to decide on something permanent, like marriage.  I love _you_, Julie. I want to make sure you are taken care of and loved. And that has nothing to do with a mother. It has nothing to do with me being in love, or getting married."

My mood was becoming bitter. On one level, I had admitted to myself long ago that I was in love with Stephanie Plum. It had been years ago, when I first met her. I knew it then as surely as I knew my own name. But it wasn't something I had considered pursuing. The intervening years, all that time away from her, believing she was happily married, had somewhat solidified my disdain of concept of couple hood, on the concept of being a loner, being alone. Finding her again-- I could admit I loved her to myself, on my terms. But it was a huge leap to be admitting it out loud.

It was time to get up after all. An hour down in the gym would do me wonders. And besides, I thought, marriage is out of the question. I can't commit to something like that, something that changes everything, not for years yet. My job isn't conducive to marriage. Fuck, it barely has room for parenting.

"Let's get up," I said, as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, effectively ending the conversation.

Xxxxxx

I walked into her bedroom and she was sitting in bed, a crowd of stuffed animals and their wardrobes lying around her. "Feeling better, Jules?" I asked, as I sat on the one small part of the comforter not covered in clothes.

"Uh huh. Daddy tell you what happened?"

"Yup," I said and made a yucky face.

She was dressing each animal as we talked, so I asked if I could help. She nodded, and we began in earnest to outfit and accessorize. She must have a small fortune invested in clothes for her stuffed animals, I realized as I looked over the number of outfits her rabbits and bears could try on.

"Wow!" I held up a cheerleader outfit. "Which of your animals wears this?" She handed me a light brown bear. "Susie.  I just got her last month. Daddy took me to Build-A-Bear when school started." I almost lost it then, thinking of Carlos in a Build-A-Bear store. "Really? Cool," I was able to squeeze out before chuckling.  "You know what?" I said as I looked up at her.

"What?"

"I think what you really need to go with that outfit for your rabbit there is a tiara." I searched on the bed through all the shoes and pocket books until I found a tiara and a pink boa. Carlos in Build-A-Bear. Too freaking hilarious.

"Tada!" I exclaimed as I balanced the crown on the rabbit's head. Julie smiled and reached out to hug me. She really was a neat kid.

"I'm glad Daddy called you to come over," she said, and I looked at her curiously. I had decided on my own to come over to see how she was feeling, but when I called Carlos he seemed fine with it. Guess he had been planning on calling. For some reason knowing that gave me nice little tingle. I wanted to spend a few more minutes with Julie then get back downstairs to pick up that kiss where we had left off.

xxxxxxxx

We had been hanging out all morning, lying around and watching TV. It wasn't something I was used to doing, but with Steph, it felt good. With Steph, everything felt good. Julie had had a small breakfast after Stephanie got here, and then I told her she needed to take it easy and get a nap before she could do more today. She didn't think I was being reasonable but I played the 'I'm the daddy' card. Not surprisingly after the rough night she'd had, she had fallen asleep pretty quickly.

"Babe," I whispered into Steph's neck as I pulled her closer to me on the couch. "Mmmmm, that's nice." She looked up into my eyes with that damned sexy smile of hers. I grew harder every time she moaned like that. Shit. I guided her hand to my groin and rubbed it along the length of my cock. "Feel what you do to me babe?" Her answering laugh and deep kiss told me she loved the power she held over me. Honestly, I did too.

Sometimes, like now, I loved how she was in charge. I had almost no say. My body was hers to do with what she liked; I couldn't make any coherent, responsible decisions. If she had wanted to unzip me and go down on me this moment, I would have let her. The fact my daughter could walk in was just not a very big blip on my radar at the moment. Shit. She moved so she straddled me, and my hands were cupping her breasts through her shirt, massaging and squeezing and just fucking imagining being able to suck one of her nipples between my teeth-- Shit!

Since our first night together, we'd been careful to not screw around here when Julie was home. I stayed at her place a couple of nights a week, when Ella was working. Once or twice Marina had taken Julie overnight, and then I would let Steph spend the night. But it didn't seem to make any difference. Julie had latched onto Stephanie. I didn't think it was wise, but I couldn't deny the happiness on Julie's face when we did things together, the three of us. Had it only been a month since Steph and I got together? It was too soon to allow Julie such ease with Steph. I didn't know what was happening next, and I didn't want Julie to get hurt if things didn't stay good between Steph and me. My track record told me they wouldn't.

But god, I thought as I flipped Steph under me on the couch and pumped my cock against her, our clothes too much to bear, I wanted to fuck this woman and I wanted to never let her leave from under my body. I slept better on top of her; her heartbeat soothed me.

Frenzied, I bit her lip as I thrust myself against her, our pelvic bones smashing together, my cock about to burst from the memory of fucking her. Her nails raked my back under my tank top, where her hands had slipped under the fabric in a desperate attempt to pull me closer. It was like heaven had locked the gates and we both beat against them, begging for access. I was gonna come in my pants.

She had already come on my fingers when I slipped them into her sweats and squeezed her clit between them as my cock banged against her. My fingers dripped with her honey, and I was close to saying fuck it all, it's gonna take two fucking strokes before I come anyway. I could slip her pants down, unzip and find my release before Julie could get to the end of the hall. I didn't hear her moving about; I was ready to risk it all.

"Carlos Manoso."

I shot up like a guilty teen at the sound of my sister's voice, resonating in the air with finality. It had been years since she'd caught me like this, but instantly I was back the couch in her den, a horny 15 year old trying to dry hump some little cheerleader wanna-be from the barrio.

Fuck, how the hell had Marina gotten into the house without me hearing her!

--

That's it ladies…. The end of I Feel Good

Next song…. Bad Moon Rising….

When we reach FIFTEEN challenge responses!


	44. Bad Moon Rising

The Big Chill, Aliaslaceygreen, not mine, not making any money.

Bad Moon Rising, ONE

BAD MOON RISING  Creedence Clearwater Revival

I see the bad moon arising.  
I see trouble on the way.  
I see earthquakes and lightnin'.  
I see bad times today.

Don't go around tonight,  
Well, it's bound to take your life,  
There's a bad moon on the rise.

I hear hurricanes a blowing.  
I know the end is coming soon.  
I fear rivers over flowing.  
I hear the voice of rage and ruin.

All right!

Hope you got your things together.  
Hope you are quite prepared to die.  
Looks like we're in for nasty weather.  
One eye is taken for an eye.

"Ranger, when you gonna let us meet your woman?"

"What? Ranger's got a woman?" Les jumped off the back of the truck and padded over to the two of us like an overgrown puppy.

"Fuck off, boys," Ranger growled back at Lester as he hefted a box onto his shoulder with more oomph than was actually necessary. He looked like he was going to skin me alive for speaking up, _after_ he squashed Lester with the box. Shit man, he's been fuckin' whipped by some little pussy.

We continued unloading boxes of files and furniture and arranged them in groups all along the garage floor with no more discussion on this top-secret girlfriend thing. I looked around the space we were working in. The garage alone could hold a couple dozen cars. I had barely had the chance to wander around the rest of the building. All I knew was it was seven stories high, and ours. Well, Ranger's.

RangeMan. So, yeah, ours. I didn't put no money into the venture up front, just my hard work. Ranger was the brains, there's no getting past that.  But still, it was a crapload of zero's on the mortgage. "You sure this is what you want to do with your money Ranger, 'cause this is serious cash we're talkin'."

Ranger just stared me down. "The building is just the beginning. I want a presence in Trenton, Tank; one that provides cover. It's all legit; I've had Antonio double-check everything. RangeMan LTD is 100 on the right side of the law. Every T is crossed."

"By the time I get myself disentangled from the Bloods they will for all intents be disbanded, and we'll be ready to ramp this operation up. I want for us to have the legal angles covered beforehand. We are going to be _the_ security firm that people come to from as far away as Philly or DC. This building is the way to get started. Working out of a basement office with cheap furniture and bare light bulbs doesn't provide any of the potential clients I want to cultivate with the feeling that we aren't just a bunch of thugs."

"Shit, man, we look the part."

"Yeah, we do. And you two idiots act it half the time. Which is why everything else has to appear discreet, refined and polished."

--

When we got together later that week, the place looked not half bad. Respectable even.  Ranger sat down at the head of a smooth, shiny table large enough to put my mama into a state. The number of people she could feed around something this size!

His position at the head of the table, sitting in chair that seemed to radiate authority, made me a little leery. Fuck, I don't know that I would want to walk in and have to try to out-business Mr. Corporate Ranger. Shit.

From the corner of my eye I saw the door slip open. "Bobby Brown! Man its good to have you on board." Lester jumped up and slapped our old Army on the back as Brown stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Sorry boss if I'm late," Bobby said to Ranger as he pulled out a chair. "This is some place you've got."

"Take a drink, sit back and relax," I leaned over and whispered. "Ranger's on a roll. Don't try stopping him." I slid the pitcher of ice water toward him and turned my attention back to Ranger as he continued to grill Les. He was really uptight about these damned mics.

Ranger acknowledged Bobby with a nod, but didn't interrupt his interrogation. "Ok then, Santos, we've gotten all the bugs out?"

"Sure thing, man, it's all good. I tested twice again yesterday and had Tank double check. Aint no way the Feds are gonna know you are transmitting to anyone but them, man. We got your back. But why are you feeling so squirrelly?"

"You better, my friend. I want to trust him, but I don't. I have no answer for you other than I know Morelli's a good cop, but he's going to want to wring my ass if he thinks he can make anything stick."

"No worries Ranger."

"So, explain it again, Ranger, for Brown's benefit? What is the actual reason you think this is all gonna go down bad?"

"Fuck, Santos, are you looking for an ass whuppin'?" I shook my head in disbelief. If the boss had the gym set up, the man would be down on the mats right now!

Lester tossed his head back and laughed. "All the women in the world throwing themselves at your feet for you to screw, and you fall for a fuckin' cop's bitch. You are a fool, man."

Xxxxx

It was an early November night and we were sitting in the quiet of his den after putting Julie to bed. We had curled up in a blanket in front of his enormous fireplace. Carlos broke the peaceful silence as he massaged my shoulders. He started to tell me about his plans for 'after', as he called it. After what I still didn't know, but I was sure it had something to do with Morelli and all the calls he always had to walk out the door to handle.

"Babe, the confidentiality I have to have, it won't ever go away, not totally. I will never be able, or indeed want, to tell you what goes on with some of my jobs. But I did want to tell you about one of them, because I had been thinking about branching out a bit. I wanted to see if you minded at all."

I looked at him, confusion clearly written on my face. What I could possible offer him I didn't know. "Sure, I guess. Shoot." I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly, but I was incredibly curious.

"I know that your cousin owns the bond office where you work. I was thinking of seeing if he'd hire me on—more specifically, if he'd hire RangeMan on."

"What's RangeMan?"

"I started a security company last year with a few Army buddies. I want to make it a bit more high-profile, and I want to give my guys something to do to keep their edge. I thought fugitive apprehension might offer them a chance to do that. Besides, it would give me a chance to see you more often."

His smile, always fleeting, was broad and open as he kissed me lightly on the nose. I laughed. "You don't need an _excuse_ to see me, you know!" 

--

He came by the bonds office a few days later, and told Vinnie he'd be interested in doing some business for him, starting in the New Year. Vinnie took one look at the size of Carlos-- no, no, he introduced himself as Ranger-- and told him 'sure thing'. I don't know if it was because he really wanted to hire him or because he was afraid of saying no. I did know it was gonna piss off some of our Bond Enforcement agents, because they would be getting less work.  But that was a problem for my pervert cousin, not me. I was getting the good end of the deal, the opportunity to see Carlos more!

I had found myself spending a lot of time trying to decide what Carlos was all about. I mean, I knew he was the good guy, to the point it had really pissed Joe off. But this whole running around with guns and chasing people down for jumping bail; it seemed different than the man who owned a big security company. It seemed low rent or something. But he did continually surprise me.  He wore so many hats.

There was Carlos, the man who came to pick me up for dinner in gorgeous, drool-worthy suits I couldn't even guess the value of. Me, a card-carrying New Jersey female shopper of the nth degree, couldn't touch the price of his clothing. It had to be hand made for him. And God almighty his tailor deserved every penny Carlos handed him. You could orgasm just looking at him. Of course he didn't need fine tailored suits to make me melt. The man was so drop dead delicious, I sometimes had to pinch myself that he wanted anything to do with me. I would see the tall, leggy, model-like women throwing themselves all over him wherever we went. I knew I was damned lucky he saw something in me, because I couldn't compete with their looks.

And then there were days he would show up at my house as Ranger, having half-stripped off his gang-banger attire, which he reiterated to me with apology was his cover story. Half-stripped meant he'd removed the bling-bling earrings, the necklace, and the do-rag, but still he looked so dangerous. Night and day. Well, no. More like dusk and past midnight. He always exuded a level of danger.

Of course it was the third persona he seemed most uncomfortable with, daddy. Daddy was a family guy who didn't want to be. He was normal. He wore sweats, and he goofed off with his kid and did all of the normal things dads do. And I thought he was doing them well, but he had his reservations.

It seemed funny to me, because I would have thought the role of Fortune 500 businessman or Gang member would be harder to incorporate into his life. Go figure, it was hardest to be normal.

We had settled into a semi-routine. We spent at least one day a week together, the three of us. I was surprised to find I genuinely enjoyed Julie, more so than my nieces. She seemed to like me and Carlos said he was happy to spend time with me any way we spent it!  At least a few other nights we were together, just us. And that was more than nice. And most of the time I wasn't with him, I was wishing I was, or daydreaming about him. He truly occupied the majority of my time.

--

"Thanksgiving dinner? Oh, I don't know mom…I would guess he's going to be with his family…." I beat the phone against my head. Oh, dear God, how do I invite him to my parents again, after the last go round?

I hemmed and hawed about asking him and Julie to come to dinner. When I finally did, his face became an expressionless study in granite, but he told me he'd check with his sister. He did check. And he called back. She was going to her son's, so he'd be glad to come. I could hear the tension in his voice as he said yes, like he was going to an execution as the main attraction.

Describing the call to Marylou later that day and whining about having to deal with the disaster that is my family, she told me it said to her that he was ready to ratchet up the level of our relationship. Well, after she stopped laughing about my grandmother and my birthday dinner, that is.

I tried not to read the future in things that we talked about, or how we behaved with each other. Mary Lou, on the other hand, had us married and living in some elaborate mansion already. She had let her fantasy life go wild after meeting him on Halloween and seeing him in those tights. My fantasy life didn't need any encouragement. I got to see the real deal.

Xxx

It turns out he was worried about dealing with my family for no reason, because I got a call from Joe on Thanksgiving afternoon, telling me Carlos had been arrested.

I didn't _think_ Carlos would arrange arrest in order to avoid my family. And I didn't know at all how I felt that Morelli called to tell me. It seemed a bit too much like gloating.  There wasn't a thing I could do for Carlos to get him bailed out or anything that afternoon, because his lawyer was away, and so was my cousin Vinnie.

I called his home, anxious to find out about Julie. I thought it would be odd to have her over for Thanksgiving dinner without him, but then again, she had to go somewhere. Ella answered the phone, and told me that Julie's aunt had just collected her for the weekend.

So, I had to have dinner with my family alone. By the time my grandmother lit the tablecloth on fire, I was thinking that the idea of arrest was darned appealing.

Xxx

I sat staring at the wall of the cell, counting the cinder blocks while I stewed. I wanted to wring Morelli's neck. Just one minute alone with him, no witnesses. I'd show him what I could do. But it was too risky. One last drug bust was set to occur right after Thanksgiving weekend and then it was over. The guns, the drugs, all of it would be secured by the FBI and the Trenton PD wouldn't know what hit it when they discovered the level of corruption they were harboring. I just needed to keep a low profile with Morelli. I couldn't allow him to goad me at this late date.

I wanted to beat him to a pulp however, because ever since Steph chose me, ever since he had discovered my cover, he had been twice as rough with me as he had been in the past year.  I know if I called him on it, he'd use the excuse of not letting anyone think he was giving me preferential treatment or letting me off easy. I knew better however. It had nothing to do with policing and everything to do with losing Stephanie to me. The rest of the gang was almost afraid to be caught with me based solely on Morelli's attitude. They said Morelli had a hard-on for me. They didn't know the half of it.


	45. Bad Moon Rising, 2

The Big Chill Aliaslaceygreen Not mine, not making any money

Bad Moon Rising 2

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Carlos maneuvered the Porsche toward the entrance doors of the mall I snuck a glance at him, and shook my head sadly. Amateur. He thought he would find parking this close to the building, this close to Christmas! But damn it all if he didn't just pull right into a parking spot! "That settles it," I told him with a laugh. "You _are_ going shopping for Christmas gifts for Julie."

"I thought you said you would do it." The look on his face told me he still had no clue as to what to buy his daughter. I had told him to talk to her. To make a list. Ask her what she wanted from Santa. And he responded by telling me he would drive me to the mall on Saturday and let me loose with his credit card, if I would only do Julie's Christmas shopping. Last year he said Ella did it. Men.

I had asked him about his family and what he was going to buy them?  He said he always just gave them a couple of bills. I looked at him incredulously.

"What kind of bills?"

"Hundreds. For the kids, a couple of fifties."

When I continued staring he said, "Hey, don't pick on me; at least last year I put the money in Christmas cards that Ella bought."

I shook my head. But at least he knew he was a sad, sad man.

But, back to the problem at hand. I turned in the seat and looked at him.

"Nuh-uh. Anyone who can get a parking space this close to the building, this close to Christmas, is going to be my shopping buddy; you have good parking karma. You probably have good sale karma too. You'll help me find all the sales."

"Babe."

I was not losing this battle! I strengthened my resolve and stated, "You are going."

I could almost swear I heard a sigh of resignation, but Carlos would say he didn't sigh. He reached down and pulled his wallet out from his back pocket.  He flipped a credit card between two fingers, and flashed me that damned wolf grin of his. "You don't need to find sales, Babe."

My eyes became saucers. I knew they had even if I hadn't seen the evidence in Carlos's mirrored sunglasses. I was almost afraid to touch it. Slowly I reached out my hand, and reverently I let him lay it in my open palm. Communion during Sunday mass had never been as religious an experience as the feeling I had just then. I felt the slight weight of his card, warm from his wallet, as it settled in hand.

"Babe," he said as he chucked my chin to shut my mouth.

I looked at him again, and then down at the card. I had heard of them before, of course.  What card-carrying New Jersey girl hadn't had wet dreams thinking about an object of such fantasy? But never in my life had I seen one. I had thought maybe they were a thing of myth, like unicorns, or good-hair days.

I read the name imprinted on the card. 'RangeMan LTD, Ricardo C. Manoso.' "You know what this is, right? I asked, almost choking on my words. Stupid question, Stephanie! He had to pay something like 5000 bucks just to have the privilege of using the thing; I bet he knew what it was. Holy hot flash.

Xxxx

I hoped this would be over soon. I glanced at my watch. 3.5 hours already. The bags were piling up. Steph was not even a bit winded. The challenge of the hunt got her adrenaline going and she was more pumped every time she emerged from a store. I stationed myself outside every shop I was able to avoid being dragged into, and I wasn't alone. It looked like half the male population of New Jersey had been put into service as pack mules. If I was the friendly type, if I didn't look so unapproachable that no one would start a conversation with me, I bet I could learn a lot about the men who shared my burden.

While she was in the restroom I noted that to my left there was a Build-a-Bear store and I knew I had to proceed with caution. I looked to the right and hoped there would be something to entice her, but I didn't hold out much hope. Steph seemed to have a plan. She knew the mall; she had grilled me on each of my relatives and settled into her shopping strategy forthwith.

Unfortunately, Julie couldn't visit the mall without a stop into the place and I knew Steph knew that. Thank God Ella did most of the shopping. I had only been forced to go in and participate once. One time too many if you asked me, but I had a feeling Steph wouldn't ask.

I had to smile though, at her unconcealed excitement in response to my credit card. Truthfully, it was a recent acquisition designed to impress clients and parlay that feeling of exclusivity to their security contract. But she didn't know that. True to form, she recovered quickly and didn't carry on about it. If she were a different woman I would have seen dollar signs in her eyes. She was truly one of a kind.

As she returned from the rest room she smiled at me. "Ok, let's move!" she told me, planting a kiss on my cheek and swiveling toward the left, the expectation that I would be right behind her implied. She went straight to Build-a-Bear. My groan was inaudible, but definitely existent. I tried to settle onto a bench but she grabbed my sleeve and tugged me into the store.

"This is Christmas, Carlos, and you need to get Julie a gift. Yourself. From you."

I was making a bear, it was that simple. "Ok, lets get this over with," I muttered, but she was ignoring me. Steph was all over the store, looking at the choices, trying to decide what animals she should make for her nieces. She kept watching me and smiling as I followed her through the store, and all the steps that are required of you to create a bear.

I would die before admitting it, but I actually started to enjoy myself as I stuffed a chocolate brown bear. I kept test-hugging it so it wouldn't get too full, and I could imagine Julie squeezing it tightly when I closed my eyes. I dressed it up in army green camouflage. Steph thought I should choose something more little-girl like, but I threw her words back in her face. "This bear is made by me, babe!"

I even tolerated the sales girl eyeing me up and down in a totally not G-rated way as she went through the helium-voiced spiel they give about wishes and heartbeats. I was able to record a short message that Julie could hear when she hugged the bear.

I will admit I was impressed by the entire operation by the time we were done, waiting for adoption boxes for our creations. Someone had come up with a winning formula, and the businessman in me could appreciate it, even though the guy in me was ready to gag.

"Since I had to wait for you to do this twice, babe," I leaned into her and whispered as she stood on the checkout line. I handed her her own bear, dressed just like Julie's. "Merry early Christmas, Babe." I pulled her back into my embrace and rested my chin on her head for a minute, but she just stood, shaking her head in surprise.

"This is for me? _You_ made it? Carlos, I love you!" She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me soundly. And since the bear was caught in our embrace, there was a muffled, "Love you, Babe," coming from between us. Her eyes shone with happy tears as she looked up at me. Yes indeed, someone definitely hit on a winning formula.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"14 bags, Steph, that's all I have to say to you, 14 bags. I'm cutting you off."

"But Carlos, you said you didn't care what I bought. You said I could do your Christmas shopping!" Yes, I was whining!

"Hand over the card."

I looked at him with a challenge in my eye. I didn't want to do it. I had had the best time ever, shopping for people with no thought to the cost, only whether I thought it would be a great gift. Even if I barely knew his family, I was sure I was getting them more personal gifts than 'a couple of bills'! And I am shallow enough to admit I loved the way I was treated when I whipped out the card.

"Babe, it's a Porsche, not a minivan. He looked down at his feet, the bags almost swallowing him. I decided not to point out he hadn't counted the four boxes with air holes from Build-a-Bear; and he didn't need to know about the bag I had stuffed into my pocketbook with the one little gift I had purchased for him with my own card. His hand lay out still, palm up, his face empty. I sighed dramatically, and said, "Well the rest of your Christmas shopping is up to you then. Here." I almost whimpered as I had to surrender his Black American Express card. He shut his hand so quickly over mine that I shrieked, and then I found myself wrapped in a warm Carlos embrace.

"You are one of a kind, babe. One of a kind. Tell you what. Let me load the car, then we can roam around till your feet fall off; I want to see what you might like for Christmas."

I couldn't help myself, my smile got as big as a kid's does after Santa promises a pony! Carlos, shopping for _me_! I hugged my bear tight, and his voice rumbled against my chest again, saying 'Love you, babe'.  What better gift he could give me I didn't know, but I was game to find out!!

We ended up wandering around for another hour or more. I don't know what he learned about me and my taste in gifts but I learned two important things. One, he was going to be incredibly difficult to shop for. And two, every female in New Jersey came up with any excuse at all to be in his space.

I decided I had to make a stop at Victoria's Secret, just to observe his level of discomfort. He passed with flying colors—even showing him a pair of panties embroidered with 'Coffee, tea or me?' didn't make him blush. While I was in the dressing room he tapped on the door and told me he had to step out of the store for a moment for a phone call, and when he came back he seemed distant. Sometimes I wanted to stomp on his damned phone!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As I snapped the phone shut I tried to reign in my fury. I knew that I didn't want to ruin the day with Stephanie for no reason. Surprisingly, I was having fun watching her get into the Christmas spirit, running about like a child with my credit card, and after all, I learned nothing on the call that I didn't know already. I had to put it aside for the moment. Worrying was going to change nothing.

Ten days ago, the shit had hit the fan with the Bloods and the Trenton police department. It had been on the news, in the papers; it wasn't like she hadn't heard about it. But we never discussed it, because we didn't discuss my job. My name was never revealed in any of the dossiers. My cover was solid. The top brass at the department were bad wood and had been cut out of the tree to keep it strong. It didn't affect Morelli, not directly. Oh, the frustration and the anger at the revelations, he reserved for me. "I'm just the messenger, Morelli," I told him, stone-faced, when he came at me with venom for taking his friends down.

With that finally over with, I thought I was going to be free of the government's grasp for a while. That was how we had negotiated the contract.  Or at least that was what we had believed we negotiated.  Intermediate level threats, intermediate level personal danger, and not one case strung after the next. I was to be able to balance their demands with the demands of parenthood and sustaining my own business. But then I received a call four days ago from the ATF, demanding my presence on January 5 at the Pentagon for a briefing for my next mission.

Antonio had been pouring over our copy of the contract for the last few days, trying to find where they had planted the loophole that they were planning to lynch me with. The call wasn't promising. He couldn't find proof they had screwed me, not in black and white. But it didn't mean I would be able to say no if they demanded I serve. I was theirs to use as they saw fit. And no matter how I tried to connect the dots from the ATF to the Pentagon, all I could see was trouble.

Xxxxxx

I watched Carlos as he, Julie, and Stephanie arrived for Christmas dinner. He almost looked interested in being with us, and dare I say happy. It wasn't a thought that went through my head often in relation to my brother. Oh, I had many one word descriptors for him; they just ran more towards arrogant, withdrawn or uptight; not satisfied, settled, or content. Julie was right behind them, and she of course was thrilled at the turn of events of late. Carlos and Stephanie had become very close, and Julie was deeply in love with Stephanie. Thank goodness, Stephanie appeared to respond in kind.

The dining room was crowded, and the air was filled with the sound of laughter, and the scents of the Christmas tree and dinner and desserts. I was glad that we were all together-- my sons and daughter-in-law, Jason's girlfriend, my lover Reynaldo; it was going to be a happy day.

--

I picked up my half-empty wine glass and wandered through the house looking for Carlos. He had stood up after dinner somewhat abruptly and walked away. Stephanie didn't seem to acknowledge it as an issue, so I had allowed him his time; but now we were getting ready to do Christmas presents, and his presence was required.

I found him in the den, in the dark, staring at the softly glowing embers in the fireplace. Unable to sneak up on him, he turned toward me as I approached. "I'll be up in a minute," he said, more to get me to turn and leave him alone than to make me believe a word he said.

I, of course, didn't pay him any heed and sat down next to him on the ottoman in front of the fire.

"Trouble in paradise?" I asked lightly, hoping to shake him out of his melancholy mood. He just swiveled on his seat, purposefully ignoring me.

"Carlos?" I touched him on the cheek, the palm of my hand caressing him in the way I had done hundreds of times in our lives. He leaned into me for the slightest of moments for succor. He stood abruptly then, and began pacing.

"Do you want to talk, hijo?"

"No."

"Carlos."

"Not tonight. No."

"Ok. But you know you can come to me, right?"

"I know. Damn it Rina, I know."

"I'm not to blame for your troubles, little brother, whatever they may be. Don't take it out on me. Come, Christmas is but once a year, let's go open gifts. Smile now, ok?"

Xxxx

Before we got back upstairs to the others, I pulled Marina toward me into an embrace, apologizing for my outburst. "I'm just. It's, well. Rina, I'm sorry," I finally voiced into the top of her head, and let her go on, to call the family together for gifts. Christmas is but once a year indeed. I needed to pull my head out of my ass, and be here, be present in more than just body this year. I needed to make all of the memories I could. I needed to make peace with these people, my family, so they would always recall this Christmas as more than just another holiday.

I walked over to where Julie and Steph cuddled together. I lifted Julie into my arms, and I swung her around, making her giggle before I settled myself next to Steph, Julie in my lap. I kissed Steph on the neck, and put my arm around her shoulder. Pulling her close, I whispered into her ear, "I love you."

I had never said it to her before, and I was tempted to never say it again, because it was going to make everything else so much harder. But I needed to say it at least this once. It seemed Christmas was the right time to make this memory, too. Julie heard me and she expressed her pleasure by kissing my cheek. Stephanie looked at me with wide eyes, until her attention was called by Marina.

Xxxxxxx


	46. Bad Moon Rising, 3

The Big Chill by Aliaslaceygreen. Not Mine, not making any money

Bad Moon Rising 3

'_Those fuckers are good __Carlos__. The ATF isn't calling you in because they can't, per your contract. But they seem to have interpreted the wording to say that they could lend you out between their cases. And I can't find a way out, my friend._'

I heard Antonio's declaration every time I closed my eyes, every time I stopped moving, every time I relaxed or was not pushing myself. I discovered I was weary. I learned I hardly ever really pushed myself. I couldn't find anything involved enough to occupy my mind, to keep the conversation from plowing around in my head. And then that would lead to the things I was discovering I had no choice but to do.  Jaded and weak, I decided. I was jaded, tired and weak. And unwilling. And just about resigned to it all.

_And_ I couldn't sleep. My head had barely touched the pillow before the sound of Steph's tears, and her angry words, rang through my ears again.  I glanced at the clock. 3:46 AM. Fuck. I got up and threw on a pair of shorts and stomped down to the basement where I had a gym. I needed to work out some of my frustrations, and figure shit out, so a night like tonight would never happen again.

Oh who the fuck was I kidding? Tonight would never happen again because Steph was out of my life. As I warmed up on my treadmill, my mind wandered back to tonight, and to my breaking her heart. What a fucking disaster.

Stephanie and I had enjoyed Christmas shopping and simply spending time together the last few weeks, right up through Christmas Day.  Julie and she even went out without me so Julie could spend her own money to buy me a Christmas gift. I smiled to myself as I recalled her bouncing up and down in excitement, waiting for Steph to take her to the mall with the 51.83 that she saved to buy me a gift. Steph had made me wait till Christmas morning to find that Julie had chosen a dress shirt in dark blue silk, and a striped blue and black tie for me. Julie told me I needed to learn to like colors, and since Stephanie's eyes were blue, we could start with blue!

I had never thought I could be content to just be. All my life I had been looking for something _more_ to challenge me, something to call to me. There had to be some greater meaning in my life; I would realize what I was destined for if only I looked harder. I had thought I had found it when I graduated Ranger school. I discovered a high degree of personal fulfillment at being able to implement change at my level. I was creating democracy, bringing freedom to those suffering from tyranny, training others to do the same. It was satisfying. I thought I was happy.

My injuries caused me to lose the chance to stay with The Rangers, but I discovered that I was even better on my own. I found just in this past year that I would be able to write my own ticket with the Feds. Once I finished this stint with the ATF, the contracts I'd be signing would all be about my benefit, not theirs. No more twisting in the wind because they felt like it. I had never thought to be a mercenary, but the Army seemed to have forced my hand. If I survived this next mission, I would be able to choose my own battles. Of course, my survival was highly unlikely. And that led me right back to the fight Steph and I had last night.

As I had brooded over the terms of this upcoming mission, a part of me began to comprehend that maybe my purpose was not meant to be something so large. Maybe my purpose was the small thing of raising Julie, of loving Stephanie. Individual gratification, at the personal not professional level, was something I never thought I would yearn for, or be satisfied with, but there it was. I had found I was happy. And the god-damned fucking government couldn't seem to stand it.

I knew I was going to have to give full custody of Julie to her mother's sister, and I knew I was going to have to end things with Stephanie. I just didn't expect her to help lay the groundwork. I felt like a rat, using her perfectly valid complaints about me as an excuse to split. Coward.

I had almost enjoyed the fight, not that I had wanted to fight with her. But Stephanie was a worthy opponent. She had venom when angry. I could kind of understand Morelli and his pathetic efforts to keep Steph with him, if the attempts caused such spirited disputes. They were invigorating. Ultimately however, I won, and we were done. Huh. Hollow victory.

I looked down at the treadmill. Shit, I'd run 6 miles already.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I felt like Goldilocks. My pillow was _not_ comfortable. I wasn't comfortable on my couch, or in my bed. I had tried the chair near the window but then I just got to stare at the parking lot light and pretend it was the moon. Face it Stephanie, it's not the bed or the pillow that's the problem, it's you. And Carlos.

Carlos. Tears came to my eyes as I thought of tonight. I glanced at the clock. 3:47 AM. Last night, I amended. I swiped ineffectually at the tears as they streamed along my cheeks, dropping silently into my pillow, probably muddied with the little mascara I hadn't managed to cry or rub off earlier.

'Once upon a time in Trenton…' Just another fairytale gone bad, courtesy of Stephanie Plum.  Well, it wouldn't rival the tale where I divorced The Dick, but still.

I looked at the clock again; it was definitely too early to bend Mary Lou's ear. Shit. She was able to talk sense into me most of the time. What would she say? I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling. I couldn't believe the way I felt. I'd fought with my share of men in my life. Hell, wasn't it a class in junior high? 'How to Manipulate Men and Win Arguments?' Well, ok maybe it was held in the girl's  second floor bathroom, but still.

I'd had a lot of experience fighting with men and usually getting my way. Or not. But at least I'd always given it a try. But I had never come out of it feeling the way I did right now. I felt like a shit-head. Dickie didn't cause me to cry like this. And Joe would never have gotten me this upset, ever, over anything. So why was I tied in knots over a squabble with Carlos?

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to go back over how it all had started. We had been lying in bed after an incredibly hot interlude; well several actually, we'd had to call a time out because we ran out of condoms. I lay comfortably in his arms.

"Do you think maybe I should, I don't know, go on the pill or something?" I voiced my thoughts quietly, timidly. The pill and I weren't best friends, but it would be more convenient—if I remembered to take it. I was wise enough not to add that part out loud.  I had never had this kind of talk with a guy, not even my husband. Heck, I'd never had it with my _mother! _ It was weird and a bit icky.

It didn't bode well when he responded that it wasn't a priority for him. That just said to me he was pulling away from me, more than anything else. His body language, every little way he'd been distant and all that the past few weeks, was neatly wrapped up in _'it isn't a priority.'_ I didn't know how to respond so I didn't.

At some point I opened my mouth again and stuck my foot in it, big time. '_I know I said I would be fine with you keeping secrets and all the disappearing and stuff, Carlos, but I think I may have lied. I feel left out and ignored and not cared about. I feel like I'm not important to you, and I know that makes me petty and a liar and a fool….'_

I slapped my hands to my head in frustration. Had I actually said that to him? Damn!

No, damn _him_! Who the hell died and left him king anyway?? I was so confused by everything. I had thought the secrecy would end. I had figured out pretty quickly that he was behind all the uproar and chaos at the police department but we never talked about it. I thought maybe now he'd come work with Vinnie some, like he had suggested. I'd get to go to his office; I'd meet the people he works with, he'd meet the people I work with. It would be, you know, normal. Maybe have a lunch date or something. I don't know what I expected.

But I definitely hadn't expected him to up and disappear the day after Christmas. He didn't tell me he was leaving; he wouldn't answer his calls while he was gone. He'd just vanished. And he wouldn't tell me where he had been when he came back New Years Eve, Julie's seventh birthday. He was cranky. There was no other way to state it. He was quarrelsome and cranky and surly. He had tried to pick a fight with me every day for a week, over stupid petty shit, and finally, last night I let him.

I scrubbed the tears from my cheeks and eyes and tried to stop the hiccupping cries that were bubbling to the surface. Had we really broken up?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I had to do it Tank. There's no one else to take her. And it's not fair. The little girl has lost too much already; I can't make her go through that again. I want her to forget me. She misses having children around her. She's this poor little rich girl up here, surrounded by adults. She loves to be with her brother. You should have seen her face when we got to the airport and they were all waiting for her. She forgot I was even there in her excitement at seeing them."

For the smallest of moments, I closed my eyes and turned my head from my friend. It had hurt me more than I could ever explain how easily she let go of my hand. I was invisible to her the moment we stepped off the plane. Despite all the arguing with everyone about the choices I had been making these past weeks, I knew in my heart it was the right thing to do and I was getting tired of having to justify my decisions to everyone and their brother.

I looked directly into his eye then, challenging him to call me on my weakness. "I want her to be happy and well-adjusted, living with her Aunt Michelle, and Xavier and her cousins by the time I'm gone. Michelle is thrilled to have her there. Antonio will finish all the custody paperwork in the next few days."

Tank glared at me. "And all the siblings and children crap you are spouting won't make up one little bit for the lack of you; for not having her father, Ranger."

"Look." I almost sighed. I ran my hand through my hair and leaned back onto the edge of Tank's desk, trying to find a way to make myself clear. "I will be in Julie's life; I won't deny her that. I just can't raise her any longer. I don't know who I was trying to fool this past year. I can't commit to being available to do it right. All she has to do is ask, and I'll go visit her if I can."  If I survive.

Tank's glare was damning. I continued trying to prove my case, although I was guilty without a shadow of a doubt. "Tonio and I have gone through the final papers for five full days. I can't get out of the assignment; it is what I agreed to do. It's how we have the cash on hand to continue expanding RangeMan--how we have access to the tools and toys we have that are making us grow so fast, be so successful. You been listening to the news lately, man? I wish it would have waited longer but I expected this to come. It was only a matter of time."

I pulled myself up from his desk and turned to walk away.  I looked back and said, "Just keep RangeMan going. Just keep sending Michelle money for Julie. And Tank, I'd like for you…well, could you look in on her occasionally? So maybe she will remember me."

"Ranger."

"Jeremiah. Please."

"Fuck, you just gotta say please don't you? I could disagree with yo sorry ass right up till that god-damned 'please'. He put his hand on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eye. "You know I will Ranger."

I bent my head toward him with silent thanks, and said, "Tomorrow, 0500."

"I'll be waiting on you to carry you to the airport, friend."

I nodded my appreciation and left.

As I stepped into the hallway and closed the door on my partner, my eye was drawn to the wall, to a framed bit of Chinese calligraphy I received from my father on my tenth birthday. I had been having behavioral issues in school. I wouldn't follow directions and in general didn't feel the teacher should be in charge of the classroom. I had tried to gain control of the world around me. Skinny and insignificant as I was, I was becoming a bully. My father disapproved highly. He had spent a number of years studying the great philosophers of the world and tried to impart upon me some of the lessons he had learned.

'Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself makes you fearless,' was what the symbols had said, according to him. I could still see the disappointment in his eyes as he tried to explain this concept to me, and I recalled how bitterly distressed I was that I received that stupid piece of paper instead of the new GI Joe action figures I had asked for.

I shook my head, perplexed. I had said goodbye to the two most important people in my world these past weeks. I felt many things—emptiness, despair, mourning, sorrow, desolation-- but none of them was fearlessness. I wondered if I would ever learn that most valuable of lessons.

a/n. That's it for Bad Moon Rising. Two challenges are in here. The current one- fairytale—and the older --Mastering others. Speaking with our fearless challenge leader she agreed if I could get this weeks challenge in the chapter, you wouldn't need to wait till Monday for this. NOW, however, no more till Monday!! 


	47. Rock me a little while

The Big Chill Aliaslaceygreen, not mine, not making any money.

Rock Me Just A Little While

Rock Me Just a Little While, the Isley Brothers

I know you're leaving me behind  
I'm seeing you, darling, for the very last time  
Show a little tenderness before you go  
Please let me feel your embrace once more

Take me in your arms, rock me, rock me a little while  
Hold me darling, rock me, rock me a little while  
We all must feel heartache sometime  
Right now, right now can't you see that I'm feeling mine

I tried my best to be strong, but I'm not able  
I'm like a helpless child wrapped up in a cradle  
Let me know joy before I grieve  
Hold me, darling, before you leave

Take me in your arms, rock me, rock me a little while  
Oh, darling, rock me, rock me a little while  
I'm losing you and all my happiness  
My life is over, I got to confess

I'll never see your smiling face no more  
I'll never hear your knocking on my door  
Before you leave me, baby, leave me behind  
Please let me hold you just one more time

Take me in your arms, rock me, rock me a little while  
Oh, darling, rock me, rock me a little while  
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby ...

I said I never would beg, and I said I wouldn't plead, no  
But here I am, baby, baby, baby, please  
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby please  
Please, please, baby, please

Take me in your arms, rock me, rock me a little while  
Hold me, darling, rock me, rock me a little while...

Later that evening.

xxxx

I couldn't turn the car around. I had that little control where she was concerned. I knew it was absolutely the worst thing I could do at this moment, the last moments of my life as I had come to know it. I should be preparing mentally for the mission that would start at dawn. The one that would most likely end my life. The one for which I had spent the past month destroying relationships.

Yet I found myself in the parking lot of her dumpy apartment building. I rested my hands and then my head on the steering wheel, trying to will myself to put the car into reverse, and leave without a backward glance, as I had promised myself I would do.

I had heard around town that she was still angry with me. Good. She was like a tiger whose tail was pulled when angry, and I wanted her to be pissed.  I wanted her righteous anger and fury to carry her past my departure. I wanted for my death to just be a dull ache when the news came. As it would. I couldn't see another way this mission would end.

_'I am an American Soldier. I will always place the mission first. I will never accept defeat, I will never quit.'_  The words of the Soldier's Creed were as much a part of me as my heartbeat. I would always be a soldier. But there was this other part of me, the human part, which allowed me to slam the car door closed and find myself just outside her doorway without a conscious thought.

I had tried to stay away from her. I thought a cleaner break would make it less painful—for us both. How could I have thought I could live without her? If being a soldier was like my heartbeat, she was like the air I breathed. Somehow, I found myself standing guard in her bedroom; I was barely a shadow on her wall. I watched her sleep, her even breathing telling me that at least tonight, this moment, she was at peace.

She twisted under the covers and opened her eyes. "Carlos?" she murmured, her voice warm with sleep. She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes, stretching on the bed, peering into the blackness. How did she always know I was there? I chose not to respond. Maybe she would put her head back down, think it was a dream and let me escape unscathed.

She continued moving about, becoming agitated. "It is you, isn't it?" Her voice rose in pitch but not in volume. I was going to have to step out of the shadows to make her feel safe.

"Babe," I took one step forward and spoke gently, on a whispered breath. "It's just me. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Why? Why are you here now? Where have you been? Why haven't you called? Just to talk? To let me try and apologize?"

I couldn't respond. The last thing I deserved was her apology. I had allowed her to think she was at fault, when indeed breaking off had been what I had intended to do that night.

She continued on though, trying to get me to respond. "Why won't you come over here to me? Come sit down. Please. Let me see you."

"Babe."

 "I'm sorry. I know we agreed that wouldn't be the way it was, that I told you I was fine with not knowing; I shouldn't have pressed you about things. But... I… I needed to know you were ok. Julie and Ella haven't answered the phone. What did I do that was so wrong?"

She was rambling, barely coherent. Grasping desperately at anything that would help her heart heal. And I knew if I did go to her, I knew she would be able to read my face; she would be able to see beyond the blank stare that I directed at her from the darkened corner. I knew if I did this thing, if I let her see me, I knew with certainty I was lost.

"Carlos." She sat there quietly, kneeling on the bed. Looking into the shadows where I stood, tears began to well in her eyes.

As the first tear slid down her cheek I took another step toward her, into a shaft of moonlight, and she gasped as she read all the emotions that were somehow so visible to her.

"You're…you really are _leaving_…no, we aren't over! No Carlos. We can't be over. We'll never be over, not really. We _are_ two halves of the same heart, I know it now. It… it seemed silly, it was idiotic and romantic and foolish and I felt it but didn't truly _believe_ it. But it's true. You are mine. You have to…what did I do?" She was just this side of hysterical; her cries were tearing me in two.

The sigh I had tried to keep inside escaped as a painful groan. My voice was rough as I responded. "Nothing, Babe, nothing. Be happy again someday, promise me?"

"No! No. No, no. You can't leave me without telling me what I did wrong."

"You did nothing. I have to go. I was called. I have no choice."

"But you'll come back then? And then we can…"

"Babe." I had to cut her off. I couldn't allow her to continue with her false hopes. This mission was terminal; I had accepted that and I needed to keep that expectation in my head, in order to succeed.

"Nooooooooooooooo." The keening sound she made brought me to the desert plains where I had watched women cry over the bodies of their fallen sons. I had no choice but to put my arms around her, to comfort her. To comfort me.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once he stepped to the edge of my bed, I grabbed him and I couldn't let go. I couldn't process all of the emotions I was feeling. I was overloaded on an adrenaline high of fear and worry. I couldn't bear the thought of this massive man, this beating heart, this beautiful creature, stilling. Leaving me alone. I kissed him for all I was worth. I clawed at him, and refused to let him go. He tried to reject me; he turned his head from me, not accepting my kisses. I thrashed around in his arms, smacking him and crying and beating him in the chest.

His arms tried to envelope me, to calm me, but it was too late. I couldn't be reasoned with. I felt in his embrace not the love, or the comfort, or the safety I had always felt. Instead it felt constricting; his embrace was like a straight jacket.

He had already left. I could feel it; he was already on this God-damned mission already. No! I wouldn't let him leave that easily. No way. I reached down between us, and I admit it, I played dirty. I grabbed for his cock; it was already throbbing through his cargos.

"Don't tell me you don't want me Carlos Manoso," I growled savagely into his ear. I nipped it just a little too hard for play and squeezed him again.

"Babe."  He tried to rebuff my efforts. I struggled to unbutton his cargos, and ignored his attempts at pushing me away.

"Babe."  He groaned, his eyes black, his face such a granite mask it almost scared me. I could read as much emotion in those chiseled features as he tried to block. My hand found him; he was hot and velvet and my fingers surrounded him, and slid along the ridges of his length.

"Babe."  It was a warning.

I continued to pump my hand along his cock, squeezing and tugging, my teeth biting his ear, my tongue lapping along his cheek. I breathed in his essence. I watched his eyes lose focus, and I heard him purr with pleasure.  I let all of my senses absorb him one last time.

"Babe." This time it was a question that finally reached my ears. I looked up at him then.

"You don't have any condoms."

My eyes widened slightly and I sank into myself, defeated. We'd used the last one that night. Before the fight. I had forgotten in my upset over Carlos being out of communication. Oh, what a liar I am. Out of communication my ass. He had wanted out of our relationship. We had broken up. Fuck.

I sat still for a few beats, feeling him pulse in my hand. The past weeks, the pain I felt as each day went by without contact, ran through my mind. No calls, no visits. He had simply abandoned me. But not one day had I felt our bond weaken. Oh, it felt tenuous, but it felt there. He was the other half of me and I could do nothing but accept that, accept him. All the efforts Mary Lou made to convince me to the contrary, in the way a good friend should, were out the window the moment I felt him hovering in the shadows. We were part of each other.

I made a decision. I looked him in the eye. "You can't leave me alone Carlos," I begged him. "I can't be alone."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

God, help me walk away from this woman. This was why relationships were stupid. I looked to the window, to the softly glowing moon, and I almost screamed my frustration. I pulled on my boots and stood. I zippered my cargos and sighed. It was time. My eyes fell to the frame on the bedside table; it was a picture of the three of us on Halloween. Looking at Julie's face, I took a deep cleansing breath, and I closed my eyes to stop the watering that threatened my vision.

I pulled the covers up over Stephanie. She was sprawled out on the bed, her curls a riot across the pillowcase. I breathed in her scent, memorizing the smell of us together, our bodies mingled in passion. My heart clenched as I ran my hand along her cheek, and she opened her eyes at my touch. The tears were closer to the surface in her face, pooling along the rim of her eyes. Lit by moonlight, they were wavering and shimmering with soon to be spilled tears. Her lip quivered, and then she tried to smile for me. My brave girl.

I straightened up and turned away. She whimpered softly and in one step I was back at her side.  I skimmed my hand along her cheek again, and down her body, stopping to massage her breast. I leaned over and kissed her once more. Her eyes held mine. In the look I returned, I tried to tell her how much I loved her, how sorry I was.

Finally, I just rubbed a gentle circle on her flat belly. "My mother's name was Estella," I said softly, offering only gift I would ever give our child.  I kissed her forehead, and then I straightened my spine, spun on my heels and walked out of the room without pause.

That's it for this chapter AND This song…. Yep, a one chapter song. Thanks for reading and for all your reviews….


	48. MondayMonday

**The Big Chill, Aliaslaceygreen. Not mine, not making any money.**

**Monday Monday **

_Monday Monday_  The Mamas And The Papas

Monday Monday, so good to me,  
Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be  
Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee  
That Monday evening you would still be here with me.

Monday Monday, can't trust that day,  
Monday Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way  
Oh Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be  
Oh Monday Monday, how could you leave and not take me.

Every other day, every other day,  
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah  
But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes  
You can find me cryin' all of the time

Monday Monday, so good to me,  
Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be  
Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee  
That Monday evening you would still be here with me.

Every other day, every other day,  
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah  
But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes  
You can find me cryin' all of the time

I was deep in thought as I swished the pink ball of nylon over my skin, scrubbing the remains of little Lizzie's breakfast from my body. What more could I do for Steph? As always, my best friend was on my mind every free second. Which was usually the twelve minutes in the morning while I hid in the shower. The water pounded, so I couldn't hear the chaos bubbling just outside the door of my sanctuary, where Lenny attempted to get the pipsqueaks ready for school. I was able to pretend then, that my real-life troubles were washing away, and I had the opportunity to work on the Steph Problem.

I squeezed some more Exotic Coconut shower gel onto my scrubbie, and noted I needed to make a pit stop at Bath and Body Works while their Big Sale was on. Hmm, stock up on yummy toiletries. That could be the ticket. Maybe after the kids got on the bus, I'd call and suggest it to her. Who wouldn't be happier with a big bag of smell-good goodies?

_Something_ had to reach her. She was in such a funk! That Jerk with a capital J, Carlos Manoso, really did it to her big time. I had never seen her so wound tight about a guy before. He had seemed nice. Really nice, I recalled. Closing my eyes, I could still see him in his Batman costume on Halloween. He really filled it out. Damn, the good looking ones are always married, jerks or gay. And to hear Steph tell, he was definitely not gay. Or married. That left Jerk. With a capital J.

We had been sitting out in the kitchen over coffee about three weeks back. Steph had looked like shit, and it turned out for good reason.

"Carlos dumped me. We had this huge fight, and I didn't sleep at all last night, Mare." She sighed and put her head down onto the table in a gesture of exhaustion. "I'm sorry to barge in on you so early, but at least I didn't call you at 3:47 when I realized I'd never get to sleep," she mumbled, a sheepish grin on her face.

"It's not a problem."

Lenny snorted from the other side of the room.  I laughed a bit, and agreed, "Okay, quarter to four is a little early even for me.  But you can always show up here, Steph, that's what friends are for.  So, what happened?"

"Men are scum!! Complete scum," Steph declared as she rose from her slumped position, hands hugging her coffee mug. "No offense, Lenny," she added as an afterthought.

"None taken," he replied as he handed me a box of coffee cake before bundling up and piling the kids into the minivan for an impromptu sledding session at the park.

"Thanks, sweetie," I murmured as he left. He was an angel.

"Now, dish, girlfriend. What happened?" I topped off the coffee mugs before settling in to hear about all her worries. I honestly couldn't believe all the crap he had said to her. And birth control was not a priority to him? What an arrogant SOB!

"God Steph, he's a jerk." I went over to her and, leaning down, wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her into a serious hug. We stayed that way, me behind her chair, her clawing at my embrace for long minutes, as her tears slowly spilled. Finally I straightened and declared, "But it's over; you need to move on. You can't let him know he affected you like this, ok? You know better than that!"

Hey, it was the Burg way. Never let them see you sweat. Guys in the Burg may be clueless when it comes to relationships, but partly it's because we keep them that way. Our ability to control men comes from their lack of knowledge about how to stay out of trouble. Hence, we always have the upper hand, and something to hang over a guy's head to get them to toe the line.

The smart ones catch on pretty quickly and just do as they are told. I grinned to myself, thinking of Steph's own dad. He was one of the _really_ smart ones. Of course the big problem was that Capital J was not Burg, and didn't know the rules.

I called Lenny on his cell while Steph was in the powder room, trying to make herself look halfway human again. "Lenny, I think this is gonna take more than simply an overdose of caffeine. I'm gonna take Steph out Saturday night for drinks. And you need to come up with someone for her to go out with next week. There's gotta be a guy out there somewhere," I told him forcefully when he tried to protest.

I showed up at her apartment at 8:30 Saturday night and she hadn't even showered or gotten dressed for the day, let alone our night out. "Steph. That's it! Over. You've moped. It sucks. He's a Jerk. Move on, girl! He's not worthy of your time! Now get in the shower," I commanded as I opened her closet door in search of a nice outfit for her to wear. Something sexy to make her feel better about herself.

I looked around the apartment and shook my head. It looked like a cave. All the shades were drawn, there were clothes scattered about, fallen in neglected piles where she stepped out of them the whole week long. I tidied up as I waited for her to bathe. "There's hardly anything that doesn't look better after a few margaritas, Steph," I lectured as I handed her a pair of 4 inch black strappy sandals to complete her outfit.

We took a back booth at Island Paradise, a nightclub with a Caribbean flair. The palm trees throughout the place were bedecked in Christmas tree lights. You were draped with a lei as you entered and you got another for every drink you ordered. The place was somewhat kitchy but it was one of our old stomping grounds when we used to be on the prowl for men. I thought it would bring back some fun memories at least. Besides, how miserable can you really be with a pile of leis around your neck?

We ordered two frozen Grande Margaritas to start with. The waiter who brought them was a cutie, and I nudged Steph, who wasn't even looking. "Mare. He's barely even old enough to drink!" she hissed at me.

"So? You're only looking. He's not too young to look at. And he certainly was built to look at," I said, craning my neck to watch his cute little rear end move across the room.

"To…" I raised my glass and stumbled for a moment. What should we toast to? "To Jerks…." I finally settled on. "…and to the poor creatures who end up with them. Which, luckily, is _not_ you!"

Steph smiled at that. It was a small smile, and a forced one. But a smile all the same. "To girlfriends," she said, as she raised her drink at me. "The best kind of person to have by your side."

Sloshing the straws around in our drinks, and chair dancing as we commiserated about life in general, and men in particular, Steph finally looked a bit calmer. Saner. I knew she'd had a rough week; heck the first couple of days I had to call her and harass her out of bed to go to work. But I think, finally, just maybe she was seeing the end of the serious sadness. The breakup would settle uneasily into her past, and she would be able to take some small, shaky steps into the future. If Lenny ever got his ass in gear and found a guy! Geez, you ask them to do one small favor….

My attention was caught as Steph shook her hands. "Problems, girlfriend?  Or is that a new mating dance?" I asked. I had noted her wandering eye stopping on the backside of every man that walked by. Some of them where definitely worthy of further study.

"Huh?" She looked up at me, her eyes slightly unfocused.

"I can't feel my fingers. My arms are twingling," she mumbled.

"Twingling, are they?"

"Yup. I wonder why," she said, and shook them once more. Then her head dove toward the straw and she slurped a mouthful of her margarita.

"I wonder indeed, Steph. Everything in moderation," I intoned in a high-pitched voice, mimicking old Sister Whats-er-face from high school. We both burst out laughing at the memory. "Slow down on that thing!  Geez, girl, you forget how potent these drinks are?"

She giggled. "Nope. I remember. It's because they're frozen, Mare. Frozen is faster!" She smiled a bright smile as we both fell into gales of laughter. All through college we held a firm belief in frozen beverages being the cheap way to inebriation and fun. "It's because the tequila won't freeze, Mare," she whispered in a conspiratory tone. "It all falls to the bottom, you know, and all the frozen stuff is up top, and the straw is down there and you get all the alcohol first!" She looked up at me, proud of herself for remembering.

As the waiter draped a third lei over each of our heads, Steph continued to carry on about her mom. Apparently Mrs. Plum had her ear to the ground and caught the fact that Steph and Capital J were no longer, and she had been calling her daily to promote Morelli's case.

"Well, Steph," I finally conceded, "I would love to find you someone too…. But Joe? Well, he does have a nice ass."  

"Yes, he's got one of those. But's because he is an ass, that his is so appropriate." She began to giggle uncontrollably then. "The ass has a nice ass indeedy. He is an asinine ass with a nice ass," she proclaimed as she bent to take another sip of her drink.

"What will end up happening, Mary Lou, is that I will have to settle for celibacy. I hate the idea of celibacy, but it's the only way Mare, he ruined me for all men!" she whined a few minutes later.

"TMI, girl. TMI."

"Oh, you just wish that Lenny rated like Carlos, that's all."

Her words would have stung, had she not stuck her tongue out as she spoke, to ease the harsh commentary.

"Besides, you don't get Carlos any more. Mr. Capital J is outta your life girl!" I proclaimed victoriously, my tongue wagging as hers had.

Musing over the past wasn't helping fix Steph's current problem, which was finding her a keeper, not some overblown Burg irritant like Joe Morelli. Morelli would never be the _answer_ to her problems. I turned the shower off and grabbed a towel. I needed to approach this from a different angle, I thought.

As I toweled myself off, I heard banshees running through the house and realized that mediation time was over for another day and I hadn't really solved anything about the Steph Problem. The two guys Lenny had come up with, well, as Steph said, celibacy wasn't all that overrated, if that was what she had to choose from.

I heard the phone ring and rolled my eyes, sighing. It was barely 8 am on a Monday morning, and already the week was in full gear.

--

**Thanks all for following along, for your awesome reviews and for your continued responses to the TELL HIM challenge!! This includes the Moderation challenge**

**Still one more week for you to respond to get another chapter next Monday!!**


	49. Monday Monday 2

The Big Chill, Aliaslaceygreen, not mine, not making any money

Monday Monday, Part two

I stood with my mouth hanging open, the phone glued to my ear, absently kissing the boys on their cheeks as they stomped past me, green and blue abominable snowmen. "Uh huh, I'm listening," I murmured as I shrugged an apology at Lenny and put my arms out to take the baby from him. "Love you," I mouthed.  I juggled Lizzie onto my hip as I watched through the storm door as my men all headed out for the day. I closed it with a shove of my hip; set Lizzie to toddle off toward the TV where Sesame Street was beginning, and shook my head wildly, trying to tell myself I wasn't hearing what I was hearing.

A booty call?? Are you _serious_ Steph?? And you let him?? My head screamed. My mouth, it stayed shut, except to murmur again, "Uh huh, of course, sweetie, come over whenever you get here."

Xxxxxxx

I sat crossed-legged in bed, staring unseeing at the door that Carlos had walked through a few hours ago, changing my life forever. I was stiff with sitting, but I didn't quite know what I was supposed to do next. The phone was cradled in my hand; the enormity of what had occurred was starting to sink in. I couldn't believe I just called Mary Lou, and asked her for her help, and told her about what we did last night.

She had talked me down almost every day the first week after Carlos bailed; distracting me from the crazy crying jags I found myself in at all hours; even attempting to set me up on blind dates from hell. And her Lenny was a saint for dealing with me, too. She had vilified Carlos, added her own unique tortures to my fantasy floggings, and been the true friend I always knew her to be.  But I had had to tell her. She was the only one who would possibly understand.

Get dressed. That's what I need to do next, and get over to her house, before she comes and hunts me down.  A small smile crossed my face; the knowledge that hunt me down indeed is what she'd do, if I didn't show up. I fell back onto the bed, exhausted by my life, and sighed deeply.

--

"I still love him Mare. I gave in, and we didn't use protection and God help me, I want to have his child. I feel like my eyes were opened Mare, and this is the way it's supposed to be. He is mine. A part of me, he always has been. Now," I said, cradling my flat stomach in a symbolic maternal embrace that came from somewhere deep inside, because the honest truth had always been that pregnancy and children scared me shitless, "Now he always will be."

"Steph." Mary Lou reached her hand out to me, in a gesture of comfort, or solidarity, I didn't know. Odd. Just the thought of being a mother, and my mind saw things so differently. I would be part of a group I had always pitied, avoided, been in awe of. And the freaky, scary thing was I wanted it.

"He…. He said, God, Mare, he said he walked out on me so I wouldn't miss him. He thinks he is gonna be killed! He is going on some mission. He works for some secret government thing; he could never tell me anything. But they were the ones making him leave. He didn't _want_ to leave." That singular thought had been what kept me going since he walked out the door. I had to believe that was how it was, that he had some sort of foreknowledge, and wasn't just a colossal jerk, who figured I'd just beg to have him fuck me once more. He was sacrificing himself for our country! I hated our government. How could they ask someone to do this? To destroy their worlds? To destroy the people they loved. I hated _them_. But I couldn't hate _him_.

I glanced up at Mary Lou and I saw in her eyes a trace of wariness, a bit of skepticism. But the thing about Mare, the thing about _real _friends? Good ones, those that just love you? She never uttered another word about what a jerk we both thought Carlos might be. She let me have my fantasy, both of us knowing it might be just that.

Little Lizzie came into the kitchen and tugged at her mother's legs, begging to be picked up. I watched Marylou with new eyes as she put the little girl in her lap and broke off pieces of doughnut and fed it to her, never so much as breaking stride with our conversation.

"You realize, Steph, don't you, that this is not easy, right? Parenting? And you won't have someone to help! What will your mother say? Your dad? How are you gonna afford it? It's not like you will be his widow or anything, God save him," she murmured crossing herself unselfconsciously. "What will you do alone? You'll be lonely, girlfriend."

"He'll be with me," I said, uncertainty creeping into my voice as my hand went to my stomach. "And, you know, the opposite of loneliness, it's not togetherness. It's intimacy, it's awareness, knowledge. And he'll never be far from me, I know it. He'll be with us every moment, somehow."

"Ok." She looked straight into my face, her eyes earnest, seeking the truth of my belief. "So, the first thing we need to do is figure out whether it is even possible. When did your period end?" She asked, getting up to find a calendar. "Then we will get you a test, you can use it in about three days, I think. And then, a doctor. I think you have some time before you need to get into all this with your parents." She placed the calendar on the table in front of me and squeezed my shoulder gently. "Pop out a boy and your dad will handle your mother!" she laughed lightly.

I turned around and looked up at Mary Lou. "He named her."

"What? You haven't taken a test. He didn't …"

"He _wanted_ this, Mare. We'd talked about kids before. He told me if he had another child it wouldn't be by accident. He wants a girl. He wants her to be named after his mother. Estella. He loved her."

"Yeah, so? I would hope he loved his mother, Steph."

"He had a hard time saying it. That he loves you. I think he's afraid. But, it's like, well, like he was telling me he loved me, too. And the baby." The tears had begun again; they were running down my face, uncontrollably. Mary Lou put Lizzie on the floor and put her arms around me, and rocked me till I was able to get myself pulled together.

"Ok," she shrugged. "But Estella will be difficult for a boy. You may need to handle your mother by yourself."

A bit short, but my muse is somewhere in the Scottish Highlands with Jamie Fraser right about now. Sorry. Thanks all for your awesome reviews, and for following along for so many months……


	50. Nights in White Satin

**The Big Chill **

Aliaslaceygreen, not mine not making any money.

**Nights in White Satin **by the Moody Blues

Nights in white satin,  
Never reaching the end,  
Letters I've written,  
Never meaning to send.

Beauty I'd always missed  
With these eyes before,  
Just what the truth is  
I can't say anymore.

'Cause I love you,  
Yes, I love you,  
Oh, how, I love you.

Gazing at people,  
Some hand in hand,  
Just what I'm going thru  
They can't understand.

Some try to tell me  
Thoughts they cannot defend,  
Just what you want to be  
You will be in the end,

And I love you,  
Yes, I love you,  
Oh, how, I love you.  
Oh, how, I love you.

Nights in white satin,  
Never reaching the end,  
Letters I've written,  
Never meaning to send.

Beauty I'd always missed  
With these eyes before,  
Just what the truth is  
I can't say anymore.

'Cause I love you,  
Yes, I love you,  
Oh, how, I love you.  
Oh, how, I love you. 

Breathe deep the gathering gloom

Watch lights fade from every room

Bed sitter people look back and lament

Another day's useless energy's spent

Impassioned lovers wrestle as one

Lonely man cries for love and has none

New mother picks up and suckles her son

Senior citizens wish they were young

Cold-hearted orb that rules the night

Removes the colors from our sight

Red is grey and yellow white

But we decide which is right

And which is an illusion

The things that keep me sane as I carry out this mission are so minute. The color of the sky just before the afternoon storm is richly blue and suggestive of Steph's eyes as I made love to her. When I hear the random laughter of a child carry on the wind through the broken windows of the abandoned buildings I've commandeered, I can see my daughter's smile in my mind and it comforts me in a way I would never have known possible.

The tears I saw on Stephanie's face as she begged me not to leave her alone haunt me. Intense dreams and a certainty that Stephanie will not be forever alone calm me. The hope that I left her with my child growing inside her is something that is endlessly and amazingly soothing. To believe that she will remember me as she holds her and raises her; that maybe she will one day find it in her heart to forgive me and tell my child that I was a good man consoles me. Oh, to see her just once holding our child close in her embrace.

Over the course of the past three months I have had all the time in the world to wonder over the love brought into my life by the two of them. Julie and Stephanie define the best part of me. The amount of time my mind has been given over to contemplation is daunting. The mission occupies only the smallest of times in the darkest hours of night—those times are intense, and my attention can't stray. But that is the nights, under the indifferent glare of the moon, when all my plans are put into action slowly, minutely.

The days, they have been so long. Hours on end of waiting. No contact with any other human. Too much time to compose letters that remain unwritten, to think of words of love and comfort that remain unsaid. And to contemplate if this was the right and proper thing to do. Not that I could do much to change it now. This too makes me think of Stephanie, and how horrible, how impossible this waiting would be for her. I found her lack of patience, her absolute inability to sit still, alluring; it charmed me. To survive, I had learned long ago to be like a statue. Here, extraneous movement was danger. I moved only to scavenge and steal to eat, to survive. I moved only to bring myself closer to my quarry and my death.

Xxxxxxxx

As I ran from the main building of the compound hidden in the middle of this primeval jungle, I had no time to consider anything other than my next footfall. I knew it was just about over. All of my primary targets were dead. My mission would be accomplished in the next 30 or so seconds when the building exploded. No evidence remained of my being there, of the United States being involved, except for me. As I ran, I waited to feel the onslaught of bullets that would take me down.

I ran as if my life depended on it, which indeed it did. I ran with the sure knowledge I was going to be gunned down by one of the many snipers who would spot me in the moments after the blast occurred. They were trained killers, as I was, and I would expect no less. The guards loyalty was with those in the doomed buildings, those who lived like kings on the suffering and destruction of any in their path.

The explosion was shocking in its volume. It rocked me to the ground, and as I lay waiting for the next safe moment to move, I could feel the reverberations of the ammo stores exploding through the hard-packed earth. It was so strong, the munitions they had gathered were of such volume, that the ground below me quaked a mile away from the building.

I didn't have time however to glory in my success, and I didn't have time to worry about my death. I had time only to get to my feet, and continue on, to keep running through a terrain I had learned like the backs of my hands these past months. It was over 100 degrees, and had been for the entire time I'd been in Colombia. The jungle is unforgiving. As always, I had acclimated to the environment quickly but I doubted that would help me now.

I knew I had another two or more miles of sentries to bypass before I could even think of being alive for more than a few more minutes. I said my prayers, as if they would be acknowledged; the stains on my soul so black that I knew I would be heading to hell shortly. But Uncle Sam would be happy. There would not even be the report of the loss of an operative in this situation.  It would all have gone off without a hitch, without any casualties and without any acknowledgement they were even involved. Clean, and crisply executed, as they liked it. I should be proud.

I could finally see the clearing to the left that was my goal. It was the most dangerous of the clearings, and the last to get by before I could dream of another day. I had gotten around the patrolling soldiers many times in these last months. But it had always been in the deep of night, while the building was mostly abandoned. And it had always been crawling slowly, taking over an hour to creep forward with the breeze.

Today, this humid afternoon that was to be my last, it was full of the drug lords, the cartel that had been my prey. As I stopped to listen to the sounds of the guards, I took a cleansing breath, willing my legs to carry me on.  I wasn't winded yet. I could hear the radios screeching on the hips of the sentries running wildly through the undergrowth, searching for me. For someone. They were on full alert. They had been shooting at every rustle of wind through the area. They were a little flustered, and had opted for the shoot first, ask questions later mode; I had only the one chance to blend into the path between the trees and the unrelenting jungle.

I slowed to a fast creep and verified my location. I looked up into the tree stand where I knew there was another guard. I silently waited as he surveyed the area. As was his normal routine, he rotated to each compass point on a strict schedule. This one was a good soldier. He was not allowing the chaos of the radio or the explosion to distract him from his duty. Thankfully I was a better soldier and had studied Julio, the sentry from 4 pm to 4 am, every day for the past month. Unnoticed, I passed him daily. He wasn't lazy but he wasn't proactive either. He was a soldier, not a brain.

Less than 400 yards to go and I knew that today, I would need to sprint the last 100. But if I did that successfully, I had a good chance of seeing tomorrow. But tomorrow was not my objective. It was simply to survive the next minute.  I took the path my body had become used to. I had slowly cleared debris, day after day, so that there was something of a trail, if you knew where to look. I was within 30 yards of my goal when I heard the radio volume change and I knew then I was a dead man. In the second before I dove for the ravine I knew was just ahead, I felt the fusillade of bullets hit me, and I managed only to roll to the right, to a place where I knew my body would not be discovered by these soldiers. My mission was to get this done without anyone being able to link the United States government to the proceedings. If I was discovered, all was lost.

I came to a halt against a rock. My body was on fire. I could feel my life seeping away, yet some very primal instinct caused me to fight for survival, although I had known I would be dying today. I assessed my injuries without emotion. The one that was most immediately life-threatening was my left leg, where a bullet tore an artery before shattering the bone. I had a sizable gash somewhere in my scalp based on the quantity of blood that was interfering with my vision. As I tried to move, I realized I had been struck in the upper arm as well. With some great effort I managed to tie off a tourniquet of sorts on my leg using my good arm and my teeth and the sweaty strap that held my hair back before becoming too weak to continue.

I couldn't slow my racing heartbeat. My blood was flowing from my wounds and I was feeling lightheaded and weak. I set my head back gently on a rock, and cradled my wounded arm close to me. I closed my eyes. I could hear Julie's light chatter and feel Stephanie's gentle touch along my cheek.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Padre. He is awake," a soft, angelic voice spoke in broken English. I tried to open my eyes, but the effort seemed too much to bother with, so I simply tried turning my head toward the angel's voice.

I winced at the effort, which was fruitless in any event. I felt a shadow settle over me, heard the rustle of cloth and then a hand lifted mine. "Sir, you are American? Should we get you to the embassy?" The voice seemed friendly but I rejected his offer.

It took a bit of effort to make my tongue work, and a bit more to string together the words I needed. "I am not here, padre."

"Your family would want to bury you properly."

So I have not died yet. But I will. "I have no family."

"Who then is Julie that you call for? You cry for 'Babe'."

I did not like this man knowing my world. They were mine, not for him to know. The only thing I would tell him was, "They are my past."

His tone was soft and resigned when he spoke again. "I have given you last rites, soldier."

"Gracias, padre." As if God were listening. But as I lay there, his hand still holding mine, I felt peace.

"Vaya con Dios, my son."


	51. Nights in white Satin, 2

The Big Chill

by Aliaslaceygreen, not mine not making any money

Nights in White Satin, 2…

Mondays suck. I spun my pen around in my hand. The hands on the clock were moving so slowly toward 5 pm they might be going backwards. Could the day _get_ any longer? I'd been feeling off all day long. I couldn't identify exactly what was disturbing me but whatever it was, it sucked. I couldn't keep my mind on my work. I was so incredibly glad it hadn't been busy lately and that Connie had come back from her medical leave so I usually had someone to talk to. Yes, the same Connie I used to work with all those years ago. Small fuckin' world. Of course she had dashed out early for a pedicure, and so I was left to my own devices.

She had meet Carlos, back then. But hadn't met him again before he left; she didn't truly understand what his leaving had done to me. Or maybe she had. I'd heard stories. She was Family. And the Family had rules about the men she could be seen with. Hmm. Maybe it explained why she was so cynical. I chuckled in spite of myself. I recalled the last time that Lester, one of Carlos' men, came in to get new FTA files. Connie spent the entire time trying to both ignore his come on's and flirt outrageously herself.

True to Vinnie's word, the guys who worked for Carlos started to come to the office, despite the fact that Carlos was gone. It was awkward to say the least. I had never met them through Carlos, these Rangemen; but they seemed to know who I was, that he and I were together. Once upon a time. They were as uncomfortable around me as I was around them, so it all worked out. But it kind of sucked because I could go a day or three and not get all weepy and then one of them would appear, and despite never seeing them with Carlos, his face would swim in front of mine whenever they came to the office.

They scared me, to be honest. One was called Lester, and he was hot, but he knew it. Struck me as a player, but he was definitely eye candy. And the sound of Connie's jaw hitting the desk when he came in the second time, on her third day back at work?? It was priceless.

Then there were these two black guys. Honestly, the first time they opened the office door I thought we were being robbed. Couldn't figure what they would steal but they looked very much like our clientele.  Turned out they were nice enough. Army. Didn't say much at all. I had learned approximately three things about them, combined, in the past three months, other than their names.

They still made me wanna pee my pants when they burst through the door, especially the one named Tank. Although, when he laughed, everything about him changed. I'd heard him laugh. Once.

Damn!! Fuck. I had gone, oh, shit, what, 22 hours, without a conscious thought of Carlos! It boggles the mind that the man can worm his way into my thoughts like that. Fuck! And somewhere along the way, trying to work through the pain, I'd developed a potty mouth that would even put a sailor to shame. Crap!

Hmm, it wasn't even 22 hours. Joe had dropped me off at my apartment late last night. We had gone to the beach yesterday, at his suggestion. He had begged. And it _had_ been one of those rare, must be experienced early spring days when it almost touches 80, and you know deep inside that you should be at the beach, to remind yourself of the ways of the world. To see the largeness of the universe, and the smallness of your problems. A chance to stand in the cold sand, barefoot and shivering as the still too cold water races around your ankles. You squeal loudly at the beach, like a child with no inhibitions, no problems. And yet.

I went because I needed to get away. I needed to clear the cobwebs of Carlos out of my head. I really ought not to have gone with him. I knew it, yet I did it anyway, one more thing I've done to myself that wasn't good for me. Joe hadn't waited for me, exactly. But he had been a friend. And I found I needed friends. He gave me only the smallest amount of grief about having chosen Carlos over him. And it wasn't like we were together or anything.

But three months is a long time to listen to your heart slowly tear itself into little pieces, to watch the pieces fall on the ground and be trampled into the crevices of the sidewalk, unnoticed by all the wide world. Yet far too noticed by me, for sure.

I had been cajoled by Mary Lou time and again to go out, have fun. And I would guess that most of the people who called and came by to make me go out and have fun had received similar hints from Mary Lou. Even Joe. I knew I must be in pretty shitty shape, if she went as far as soliciting Joe.

So, I caved in-- to the weather, to the idea of sand squishing through my toes, to being out of the Burg for even just one day. And of course, walking in the sand, not being particularly friendly or amenable to Joe, listening to the waves crash, all it did was remind me of a hot summer day six years ago, when Carlos and I stood on the edge of the earth just so. I freaked out and teared up and basically made Joe nervous.

I looked at the clock again and groaned. _Still _not five. Damn you Carlos, I thought for the hundredth time. Damn you for not getting out of my head.  Damn you for leaving me alone! My hand fell unbidden to my waist, and the cool metal of the button on my jeans tingled against my palm. Damn you to hell.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a vehicle parking on the street in front of the door and groaned, out loud this time. Go away, I mumbled to myself. Five gets here and I am out that door. Your homeboy baby daddy's sorry ass will have to just park himself in lock-up for the night. We have no one available to bail him out now.

I didn't look up; maybe they wouldn't see me and keep walking. I can't see you, I chanted, eyes closed, facing the wall, trying to make the clock hands move and wishing for a remote door locker.  I couldn't write bail anyway. I had gotten so caught up in thinking about Carlos I totally blew closing up early and now am gonna have to have some stupid….

My thoughts were cut off as the door opened and I felt, more than saw, the shadow in the door frame like a cartoon shadow of doom. I didn't turn around; suddenly I found I couldn't move.

"Ms. Plum," my name was intoned deeply, and I began to shake like a leaf as I recognized Tank's rich baritone voice.


	52. Nights in White Satin 3

The Big Chill, Aliaslaceygreen, not mine, not making any money

Nights in White Satin

I willed myself to turn at the sound of Tank's voice. It's only Tank, I berated myself. He probably just has a file to drop off. I knew I was lying as soon as I had the thought. Suddenly I had a name for that hinky feeling I'd had all day long. It was pure fear.

"Ms. Plum," he said again, hesitantly, as he crossed the floor. "Stephanie?" I looked up then, and my fears were echoed in the deep blackness of his face. God, I hate Mondays!

Suddenly he was crouched down in front of me. I had the abrupt impulse to laugh. Seeing someone as large, as solidly and massively built as Tank try to squat down to my level simply seemed wrong.  It was when his massive hands reached out to touch me that I started thinking again. This was real. And it wasn't a comedy.

I swallowed reflexively to keep down whatever it was that was clawing at my gut trying to get out. My eyes found his as I grasped his hand. Oddly enough, I took note of the texture of his fingertips; sandpaper rough and almost super-heated.

"Is he…. _alive_?" I hesitated at that last word. I wasn't sure if it was better to say _dead_, because then Tank could negate my biggest fear, that Carlos died. And that I would never be able to find a way to make him forgive me.  My voice sounded foreign to me, high pitched and squeaky. Yet there was a firm quality to the feel of his grasp, as his massive hands enveloped mine.

"Yes."

Breath I hadn't realized I was holding let out in a rush.  "OK."

He didn't let go of my hand, and I couldn't decide if I was glad of it or not. Because if he had let go, that would tell me Carlos was OK. Wouldn't it? Was his holding on to me telling me that he too was relieved?  Or was it because there was more?

More? What more could there be? What more can you want? He's not _dead!_ That is the only thing you wanted to hear. He is alive. Alive. _Alive!_

The past three months all flooded back into my consciousness. Of course, it was just a courtesy that Tank came to tell me. He knew-- he had to know-- I was worried, what with my asking each of the guys, every time they came in, if there had been any word. Not that I had any claim on Carlos. We had broken up. It was simply a courtesy.

At least that is how the rest of the world saw it. I knew better. Carlos didn't mean to leave me. Not _leave_ me. He had to go do his job, but I knew, as surely as I knew my own name, I knew that he still loved me. It was the only thing that made me get up most mornings.

I thought abruptly of Marina. I had purposefully forgotten about her as a way of being close to Carlos since that day a few months back when I broke down in her office, because I was too embarrassed by my behavior.

My mother had been stuck with babysitting both of Val's kids and had totally forgotten that she had to take grandma for her neurological check up from the fall she had taken last year. So, of course, she called me. It wasn't like I was at work or anything, I had said, the sarcasm flowing over her head with no acknowledgement.  Connie told me to go, it was fine, she'd deal with Vinnie, and so I had booked over to the house and then skid to a stop at the doctor's office without enough time to really think about what I was doing.

Not that I had done a lot of thinking about much of anything sensible lately anyway. It had been three long weeks since Carlos left on his mission, and I had had no word. It was killing me. I was sure Mary Lou was ready to toss me out with the garbage; she had to be fed with me and my whining and carrying on. I wouldn't take a pregnancy test. I wouldn't go out on a date. I wouldn't get lost in a shopping frenzy.  She wanted to believe Carlos was a good guy; she wanted to believe it would all work out.

But I knew that she had a streak of reality in her that didn't allow her such flights of fancy. And all I would do was sit and home and mope and not answer her phone calls. The fact she even continued to try proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was destined for sainthood.

I had no idea what I would do if I got my period. The idea that I wouldn't get it scared the living shit out of me; but if I got it I didn't know if I would be able to carry on. So I chose denial.

I was fully aware, as was anyone who sat through Health class that I would know sooner rather than later. I needed to keep the idea of Carlos alive as long as possible. I needed to live in my little fantasy world. So the bag with the EPT test sat, staring at me accusingly every time I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. I would glare back at it, and rest my hand on my stomach, somehow protecting my child from naysayers and unbelievers.

I hadn't even thought about the fact that the office was Marina Dennison's. How it had escaped my attention I've no idea, but it did indeed. I sat, mindlessly flipping through magazines, an uneasy mood seeping through me. But it was the same nameless feeling that seemed to follow me lately, and I paid it no attention. If pressed I would have said it was an emotional feeling, not a physical one. Had I been paying any attention to my body for real, I would have known it was simply cramps, but my head hadn't been on straight for weeks.

I had missed my period, but still wouldn't take the test. Mary Lou convinced me it was nerves that was keeping me from getting it. She tried to reason with me that I would be no more or less pregnant if I took the test, I would just know. 

But that was the problem, wasn't it?? If I _was_ pregnant, did that mean Carlos _could_ die??  Maybe if I wasn't, then he would have no choice but to come back! How flipping unreasonable is that line of thinking?

Oh, fuck! I shook my head to try and clear it from the winding pathways into the past I was traveling on, and get back to the present. Tank said Carlos was alive.

I swallowed repeatedly, trying to center myself, to calm down. It wasn't working. He was alive. "Marina. He has a sister. She needs…"

He cut me off. "Stephanie. Breathe." Tank had stood by now, and his shadow blocked the bare fluorescent bulbs that lit the place. His bulky, hovering outline was freakish to my watery eyes. I could read both the relief and the uncertainty in his movements.

One of the few things I had discovered about these guys of Carlos's was that they held him in the greatest regard. It was much more than simply that he was their boss. It seemed he was their best friend. I could appreciate that. Good friends were hard to come by. This had to be hard for him, too.

Tank stared me in the eye, and I felt compelled by some force to stop blubbering and silence myself. He put his finger under my chin, and gently chucked it. "Marina told me to tell _you_." The smile he wore didn't reach his eyes.

I nodded mutely, afraid to open my mouth. I stood silently watching him as he walked around the office, turning off computers and lights.  He grabbed my jacket and purse, and steered me toward the door. "You need to set the alarm, Ms. Plum," he stated as he stepped outside onto the street.

I must have done as he asked because he patted me on the shoulder and walked me to my car. He put his hands out for the keys and I dug through my purse for them, handing him the ring when I found it. 

I leaned into the car to set my purse on the passenger seat. I heard Tank's voice continuing to go on. All I wanted was to go sit in a dark place and have a good cry of relief, and he wanted to show me how many words he knew??

"Ms. Plum? We leave tomorrow at 10:30 am. I'll meet you at your apartment."

That shook me out of my stupor. I had been so relieved by the knowledge he was alive I had forgotten the next question to ask. Because I knew that there was no reason for Marina or Tank to come find me if Carlos could do so himself.  

"For what? Carlos… Tank….What's happened to him?"

"I don't know, ma'am."

"Where is he?"

"He's being stabilized and shipped stateside tomorrow."

"But where is he?"

"I don't know."

God, I wanted to smack him! I don't know. I don't know. Well, _I_ don't know either!! I took a deep breath before asking, "Is he hurt badly?" I was impressed by my voice, it didn't give away any of the fear that was pulsing through me.

"I don't know, Ms. Plum, I just don't know."

The sound of pain in his voice as he spoke made me regret the pettiness of my reaction. He was hurting, too. I asked with a good deal more sympathy, "What's at 10:30?"

"Marina asked that I drive you both to the hospital where they will be taking him."

 That surprised me. Marina wanted me there? Maybe she really did understand.

"Tank, is it bad?"

"I don't know."

"What has Marina told you?"

"She was trying to get some information when I left."  He put his hand on the door and got ready to slam it shut.

"Where is the hospital?"

"Walter Reed, in DC."

"And he's not there yet?"

"No, ma'am."

I bit my lip and thought for only a second before voicing my idea. "Tank, can we go to Miami? Can you get me a flight there first? We need to bring Julie to him."

I could tell I had hit on something. Maybe he didn't approve of Carlos giving Julie up either. "I think I can swing two plane tickets; I did my taxes early. Come with me? I'll treat you to Micky D's before we leave."  I knew Carlos hated junk food, but I had seen both Tank and Lester indulge from time to time.

He smiled then, and laughed. "I can put the tickets on Rangeman. But I don't care for their breakfasts, ma'am."

Ha! I had him. "I know of a 24 hour location. Hamburgers. The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast." My smile didn't reach my eyes either as I joked with him, but we both laughed softly. He told me he would call me with further details, and any news, and then he closed my door.  

I was alone again, alone with my wild thoughts and my crazy mind and I knew with certainty I wouldn't sleep tonight.


	53. Nights in White Satin 4

The Big Chill

Aliaslaceygreen not mine, not making any money

Nights in White Satin, 4

I hadn't slept well. Not that I got back to my bunk until close to 3 am, but even the late hour and the commotion of the day didn't knock me out. My phone hadn't stayed silent for more than a few minutes the entire evening; I thought I should have lost my voice from over-use.

I looked critically at my face in the mirror as I slathered on shaving cream and for once truly appreciated my coal black skin. No one would be able to read on my face the weariness I felt in my body, and therefore wouldn't be able to query me about being worried for Ranger. The ladies needed to know that I was strong for them. Now, if they examined my eyes, I noted, leaning closer to the mirror; then, maybe the redness might strike them as unusually prominent for me.

Huh. When was the last time someone got close enough to my face to have a chance to examine the whites of my eyes anyway? I wiped off the excess foam, and turned the shower on. Cold. Needed all the help I could get this morning to stay in control. I wish I could get the thought that kept pounding in my head to go away too, with the cold water. _It can only go downhill from here._ Damn thinking got into my head and just kept pounding me.

As I dried off, scrubbing myself roughly with my towel to keep myself from shivering, I came to the conclusion that the cold water had served only to clear out the cobwebs in my head, not the damned phrase.

Shit and damnation. Why couldn't anyone get a line on Ranger? What kind of fucking situation had he gotten himself wrapped up in anyway? As I picked up my cell and pocketed it, I glanced around my room to see if I had forgotten anything. Not noting anything, I grabbed my duffle and headed for the garage with the keys to Ranger's Navigator.

--

"I have to go through security over there, Ms. Plum," I nodded to the special entry area of the airport.  "I'll meet you on the other side," I smiled what I hoped was a reassuring smile and turned to leave her at the security gates.

It had been an awkward morning, to say the least. I had clarified to Ms. Plum pretty quick-like that the little information I had provided her was all the Intel I had. I don't know if she believed me. But after a few tries at getting me to change my story, she zipped her lips and had been silent. Fidgety as all hell, but silent. It was gonna be one long fucking trip to Miami. I could feel it already.

I had to admit that the broad got points in my book though, for wanting to get little Miss Julie to her daddy's side. Jerk didn't know what he had good; if you ask me. He hadn't; but I hadn't let that stop me from expressing my opinions strongly at the time. Hadn't made any difference in the decision to give Julie to her aunt, but at least I had said my piece. I wondered if this Stephanie Plum had had similar reservations about it too.  I recall little Julie carrying on something fierce about how much she loved Stephanie.

"So, uhm. Tank?"

I glanced at my watch. Not bad. At least she held out until we were airborne. Something told me, looking down at her pressed into the corner of the seat, that she was going to be making up some ground with the chatter.

"Sorry that we are so crowded." I nodded apologetically toward our shoulders, pressed together. I had taken the aisle and she had been staring out the window up till now, but every time she moved or sighed deeply I had felt it.  

"I knew you'd want to get down there ASAP." In all honesty there wasn't much of a chance of the two us fitting together on any plane I'd ever been in.

"It's ok." She sighed. "I guess it's a good thing no one wanted this seat, huh?" She patted the center seat and smiled up at me. I had to laugh then.

"Seat _is_ taken, darlin'," I said, and slapped my hip. "All paid for and legal." She looked at me with huge eyes.

"You bought _both_ seats?"

 "Always do. These things aren't made for humans."

"Well, humans, yes," she said and looked down at herself, sitting perfectly within the confines of her one paid seat. "Not giants, though, I guess. Where'd Carlos get you anyway?"

"We were in the Rangers together."

"Oh.  Oh."

She turned to look back out the window. The clouds were always soothing; I figured I'd let her have her peace while she could find it. Something told me this might be the last little peace she'd get for a while. That damned phrase was still rolling around my head like a pebble in a tire._ It can only go downhill from here._ I didn't quite understand where it came from, because he was alive. Downhill only meant--. No, I'm not going there. It's just your pessimistic nature, buddy, I told myself again.

I closed my eyes and almost found myself in a dream-state when she sighed deeply again. I opened my eyes and looked at her. I knew she wanted to say something. I think I stared long enough for her to realize she might as well just speak.

"Tank. I – uhm, I mean, well, is he--"

I figured it was time to put her out of her misery. "I'm sure he's gonna be fine, Ms. Plum. And he'll get over being pissed at me in time, don't you worry yourself."

"At you?" She swallowed, and cleared her throat, but her voice was still small and nervous. "I thought, uhm, well, he might not like me deciding Julie should be there, but well, I mean…."

I put my hand over hers on her lap and squeezed tightly. "He isn't going to be mad at you. He loves you too much." She started at that. "Ranger is a damned jerk sometimes. He loves you. And her too. He'll get over having his wishes overridden after a time. Don't you worry." I smiled then, and this time, it reached my eyes.

Thanks for reading!

Sorry it's short…. But it does have the challenge. I've been busy with RL, can you imgane??  Gonna be away on vaca for a week, I don't know if I will post next week.


	54. Nights in White Satin, 5

The Big Chill, by Aliaslaceygreen Not mine, not making any money

Nights in White Satin, 5

"I'm not a good flyer."

If someone could look at you sarcastically--well, yeah, that. Tank's eyes widened in pretend shock and I couldn't help but loosen up a little, seeing how foolish he looked. I had been twisting and fidgeting since take off. I hadn't been able to find anything that would distract me from my real problem, which was worrying about Carlos.

I was worried about how bad his injuries were. Why hadn't he been the one to contact me? And what made Marina decide I should go too? I mean, yeah, she let me have a good little bawling session that day at her office, but I hadn't thought she was really on my side. And where was he now? Where had he been? Was he in pain? Would he freak out when I just showed up there with his daughter in tow?

No. _That_, at least, wouldn't happen. Carlos doesn't freak out, I thought to myself. Not like I was, getting worked up all over again.  But I could well imagine the cold stare he might level my way if he was angry with me for defying his obvious intentions of separation by bringing her to him. A shiver of revulsion ran across my skin as I recalled the look he gave Joe once, when he had pissed him off. I never wanted to be the recipient of _that _look. And then another shudder ran through me as I recalled the blank stare in his face when he gave me the brush off last winter. Uggh. Maybe that was worse.

"God, I hate flying," I mumbled to myself as I tried to tuck my ankles up under my legs, sitting Indian style on the seat. Tank's eyebrows notched up another half inch as he watched me pretzel myself, and he crossed his arms over his massive chest, staring at me in wonder.  He was making me nervous, and when I got nervous, I just talked more. "I would love to fly…myself…not in a contraption that has no business hanging around in the sky the way this thing does."

"Ms. Plum, this contraption, as you put it, is state of the art machinery, although amongst the most basic of aeronautics out there. A child could fly this. Nothing to it. Now, you want something with a little kick, you could always try a C-51 Hercules or an F-18 Hornet. The Hercules has a Jet-assisted—"

"OK, ok!! I'll stop," I waved my hands at him in mock surrender. What is it with guys and machinery anyway? I turned away from his intense stare to look out the window again.

The clouds in the sky looked so velvety. I wondered how it would feel to just lay down on one, and feel the enveloping softness surround me, comfort me. Take away the dull aching pain that had been a constant in my heart for months. I had long ago decided that when he came back from his mission Carlos was going to deal with me, whether he liked it or not.

I had been very convincing about my acceptance of the whole break-up thing. And the booty call thing, as Mary Lou would occasionally slip and call it to my face. But it wasn't like that. I had laid out carefully to Mary Lou all the things I would say to him; how I would demand he listen and let me back into his life, when he came back. Mary Lou allowed me my venting, and she encouraged me; probably a little too much for my own good. But that's what friends are for-- agree with all the bluster and threats, and not to try to talk me down! Or maybe she was only hoping that eventually I would talk some sense into myself.

I chuckled to myself when I recalled trying to explain all of my new found opinions and attitudes to Marina, tears dripping down my face. I told her how I was gonna rein in her brother's attitude and make him see sense. That he wasn't going to be able to just decide he was done with a relationship because it was easier, because he didn't want to _fight_ for something good.

Because, damn it all to hell, we had something good!! No matter how the end had been, no matter how rough the road seemed these last months. I knew every last bit of fight in me was worth expending to get him back.  The look on her face was both sympathetic and demoralizing…I don't think she thought I could pull it off. But he _had_ to see sense. He had to know we belonged together. He had no choice. My hand moved of its own volition to my stomach and I spread my fingers in a defensive way across my flat waist line, and I groaned silently.

"Are you gonna be sick, Miss Plum?"

I looked at Tank with a question and saw his eyes glance to where I had placed my hands. Well, ok, maybe I wasn't exactly silent.  Oh shit, I so wasn't going to get into _that_ kind of conversation with him right now!! He was a quick study, and I wasn't interested in any discussion that had him counting the months backward. Nuh uh.

"Oh, no. Just-- I was just thinking of something. I'm fine."

It looked as if he wasn't really buying it. Whatever. I was better off just changing the topic. I hadn't seen him check his phone in a while.

"Has she called back?"

He sighed. I know he did; it was exactly the same sigh my mother would give when I pushed till she was teetering on the edge. But I thought it was probably better not to point out to the huge man that he sighed like my mother.

"Miss Plum. You've been sitting next to me for an hour and a half. Have you seen me on the phone? Don't answer that, ok? You will know as soon as I know anything."

"I just…" and then I sighed. My sigh was at once an acknowledgement of my powerlessness and an indicator of my level of fear. He reached down and put his hand over mine for moment, and the contact with another human, one who was as scared as me, was comforting.

"I know, Miss Plum."

"Call me Steph, would you?  So, does Julie know we are coming?"

He nodded.

"Does she know why?" 

"No."

"What are you going to tell her?"

"Uh, Miss Pl-- Steph. This was your idea."

"What? Oh, god."

"Her aunt is bringing her to the airport. We are going to get on the next flight to Dulles. Ranger should be admitted by the time we arrive, according to the information that his sister had provided me earlier."

"This hospital…is it good?"

"The best, Stephanie. It's a VA hospital. Technically Ranger is a civilian now, but he will always have access to their medical facilities. Considering he was injured in his capacity as –well, as whatever it is they are calling him-- it's the first line of medical care they would offer. If he chooses later to go elsewhere, he can. DC is pretty close to home, however. So I guess it mostly will depend on his injuries."

That shut me up. I didn't know if it was better to ask him if he had any ideas about his injuries, or not. My imagination was more than up to the task of creating all sorts of situations, based solely on movies and TV. I was afraid that Tank's real world experience might be a worse thing to draw on for rabid speculation.

Despite the reason for being here, I was looking forward to seeing Julie. It had been a long time, and I hadn't been given a chance to say goodbye to her before Carlos had taken her to Miami. I had missed her, something I was trying to reconcile with the whole world view I had on kids and parenting. Which was they were great at a distance. Kind of like a tiger in a cage at the zoo was cute. But I hadn't ever wanted one in my living room before!

We let the other passengers disembark first. Our return flight was not for two hours; we had no other planes to catch or places to be. As we walked out into the waiting area, teeming with rendezvousing travelers, I swiveled my head, looking for Julie but didn't see her. Suddenly I found myself being tackled from behind by a screeching banshee. "Stephanie! Uncle Tank!" Julie was bouncing between us, jumping up and down. Tank finally put a stop to it by swiping her off the ground in mid-jump.

"I missed you Uncle Tank," she said as he embraced her. She looked like a china doll in his arms, so small and fragile, but she didn't seem at all phased. He walked toward a bank of chairs, and she scrambled out of his arms and tumbled into the chair next to me. I pulled her close to me and my eyes watered as I breathed in the scent of the baby shampoo she used. It brought back all the memories of our short time together.

"I'm so happy to see you, Julie. So very happy," I spoke into her hair quietly. My heart clenched, holding this miniature Carlos in my arms, and suddenly I felt very tired. I closed my eyes and just let the warmth of her little body seep into me, filling me with some of her boundless energy. I didn't have long to enjoy the feeling however, because she wriggled out of my embrace and flew across the waiting area in a zig-zagging path, skidding to a stop in front of a woman who I assumed was her Aunt Michelle. Julie grabbed the hand of the little boy with her and tugged him toward us.

"Stephanie! This is my brother, Xavier! Xavie, say hi to Stephanie and Uncle Tank!"

Tank and I stood as Michelle made it over to us. Tank took the backpack from Michelle's hand and stood with this incongruously pink, impossibly small and feminine object hanging from his forearm, while introductions were made.

Michelle looked up at Tank then and asked him the same question I had been asking all morning. And he responded in the same fashion as he had when I asked. As we stood talking, Xavier declared loudly that he needed to potty, and so Michelle excused herself, shaking her head and smiling at my expression of horror.

Julie was continuing to use Tank as her own personal mountain when we heard his cell phone ring. Tank glanced at me, and then with practiced ease he reached around and removed Julie from his body, flipped open the phone as he handed her and her backpack off to me and walked away.

I had stopped cold at the first ring. Woodenly, I fell into the chair and Julie came and sat beside me, quietly watching me watch Tank.

"Stephanie," she finally said, kneeling on the chair and leaning against me, "Is it about my daddy?"

"I think so, sweetie."

"Is he sick again like he was last year? When the bad men hurted him?"

I was trying hard to hold it together. Now that I had Julie here with me, I wasn't quite sure what I had been thinking when I suggested we collect her. I was barely capable of functioning for myself! I took a deep breath, and letting it out through teeth that I tried really hard to unclench, I replied, "Yeah, I think so. But he'll get better, like he did last time."

Julie nodded, slid out of my embrace and pulled her backpack onto her lap. Unzipping it, she reached in and tears sprang into my eyes as she pulled out her bunny.

"Mrs Wabbit," I stated, as she placed her into my arms.

"Mrs Wabbit missed you Steph, she missed you and Daddy a lot."

"Oh Julie. I missed you. I missed you and Mrs. Wabbit a lot too." I let her lean against me, my arms holding her close. We waited, and watched as Tank paced as he held the phone to his ear.

"Stephanie?"

"What?"

"Why did Daddy make me move here? Why didn't he let me stay in my house with him? I miss him. It's not as fun to live here and not see him anymore."

**I don't know why**, Julie. If only I knew what the hell he was thinking. Ok, I only _thought_ that. But I thought it really strongly. Strong enough to have Julie twist in my embrace to look at me. I gave a small smile and said, "I'm not really sure, Julie. But I guess he had his reasons. We will have to just ask him when we get to see him again, ok?" 


	55. Nights in White Satin 6

Nights in White Satin 6

_Nights in White Satin 6_

**The Big Chill Aliaslaceygreen**

**Nights in White Satin, 6**

Babe. Angst.

_The baby wouldn't stop crying and I couldn't figure out where Stephanie had placed her. Stephanie had departed on a business trip; her cell phone was turned off. I needed to call her to ask what drawer we kept the baby in. Her crying was about to put me out of my head! She sounded like a machine; an erratic, wailing machine, that would go on till the end of days, without cease. _

_Suddenly I felt her crawling along my body. She must have been in the bedside table, but she figured out how to open the drawer from the inside. Smart kid. She was tugging at me, trying to climb up the terrain of my body, her soft fat palms and chubby toes trying to make a foothold in the crevices of my supine form. Her cries however continued unabated, and the weight of her body covering mine prevented me from reaching for her and picking her up and turning her off. As she reached my face, she looked at me with wonder for a moment, her gummy smile making me want to laugh. Then her face turned into Stephanie's, and I groaned in sorrow._

Xxxxxxx

"The lights won't bother him; he's pretty well out of it." The orderly motioned gruffly to the nurse standing at the door. "We need to be able to sort all these tubes and wires out; just turn it on for a minute."

"Greenhorn," the orderly mumbled under his breath as the nurse continued to look hesitant.

God almighty, were we really ever that young and that concerned, I thought to myself, and then gave the poor child an encouraging smile as I nodded at the light switch. The overhead room lights were blinding; I could well imagine not wanting to subject someone to them, but really it wasn't as if Carlos were noticing at the moment.

Carlos. I took a deep breath and forcing it out strongly through my nose, pivoted on my heel and turned to look at my baby brother. My eyes ran up along his broken body, and the barrier that I normally was able to throw up, the detached 'doctor' look, was slipping through my fingers.

I stayed out of the way as the orderly and the nurse, a perky little blond who seemed in way over her head, attempted to sort things out and get him situated in his bed with the minimum of jostling to his wounds and bandages. I studied his heart rate; he seemed to be having some small occurrence of dreams or distress based on the erratic movement of the lines on the screen. I shouldn't wonder, I thought with an exhausted sigh, running over the list of injuries and surgeries he'd already suffered.

I had been up most of the night, canceling and rescheduling my patient's surgeries and appointments, harassing doctors and civilians alike here at Walter Reed and basically making a pest of myself till I was given some information about my baby brother. My hand grasped the visiting physician ID swinging from my neck chain, and I stroked it as if it were a talisman.

I glanced over and saw that as they stopped manhandling him, his heart rate slowed down. Good. Maybe it was the stress of the journey from operating gurney to hospital bed, and not nightmares of his past few days. My eyes scanned his face. He was settling down and hopefully pain-free. It seemed that his anesthesia wasn't going to wear off anytime soon. Or maybe it was only his body trying to heal that was keeping him under. A fleeting look at the monitors and the clock over the door in quick succession told me I was well past time for oblivion myself.

Tank had said their plane came in at 6:17. Looking down at my watch, I saw it was only 4, and immediately realized I had just checked the time a minute ago! Yes, exhaustion was setting in. I moaned internally as I glanced at Carlos; painful sympathy and a sheer determination that I could will him to be strong battling in my heart. Carlos, hijo, my love.

I found myself at his bedside; the others gone now, the lights dimmed. My hand found a place on his forehead not swaddled in white. I stroked my fingers along his brow tenderly, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin, to convince myself he was there with me. I heard a change in the monitors as I touched him, and looked up. Steady and calmer. He knew he wasn't alone. I pulled over the chair and sitting on its edge, picked up his left hand, unencumbered by bandage or injury.

I looked at his eyes, the lashes long and curling on the ridge of his cheekbone. I touched his beard, finding the roughness to be invigorating, a declaration that he was continuing on. Oh, find the strength, hijo, find the strength.

I recalled the day I held him for the first time. He was only hours old, and incredibly irritated at having been treated so harshly during birth. His lungs were astonishingly well-developed, I recalled, and he had wriggled in my hands, turning a fascinating shade of purple; his mewling kitteny wailing attempting to be something it wasn't. That I hadn't given birth to him didn't in any way separate him from my own sons in my heart.

We sat like this, he and I, me lost in the memories of his childhood, all of his firsts as exciting to me as they had been to my parents. I smiled to myself as I saw him in my minds eye, toddling across the living room, or mimicking CeCe with a broom in the kitchen like he was a big boy; kissing Mami and holding on to her for all he was worth when he had disappointed Papi.

I glanced at him and noted that his eyes were twitching; REM sleep. Good. He was resting. He must have moved from being out of it to simple rest. Rest was healing. I squeezed his hand incrementally, wanting him to know still that I was there, that all his dreams could be good ones.

Xxxxxx

_Stephanie was waving her arms about, hands full of paper. Her face accused me as she brandished her weapon. Fuck, she found my letters. The letters I had written to her; the ones I composed on dusty shadowy walls, day in and day out. The letters, the thoughts, she should never know. I had never meant to send them. I had never meant to write them at all! How did she know to look in that drawer? How could she know my deepest secrets? Then the wind changed, and the letters flew from her hand. The moonlight illuminated them as they fluttered in the breeze before disappearing into the night air. Her fingers grasped me then; if she couldn't have my thoughts, she said, she would take me instead. I struggled to get out of her grasp, but her silky skin beneath my fingers had my body betraying my head and I held on for all I was worth as we rode the breeze. Oh, how I love you._

Xxxxxxx

It's possible I dozed. I started suddenly and found myself sitting abruptly upright. Had I felt him squeeze my hand? I reached up and cupped his hand in mine and pressed down, watching his face and the monitors intermittently. His eyes fluttered briefly after a time. "Carlos," I whispered. "Carlos, I'm here with you."

I could almost see him climbing out of the murky place of his dreams by watching the monitors. He would reach that spot that was just about breaking through the water for fresh air, and then fall back. After a time, he made it all the way. He squeezed my hand limply, and attempted to turn his head toward me.

I stood quickly, never letting go. "It's ok, Carlos," I murmured, as I leaned over, and looked into his eyes. "You're safe, baby, you're safe now."

"Rina." His voice was hoarse from disuse and dehydration. I cringed as I heard the cracking sound, but realized I was probably projecting disappointment in his tone as he realized it was me, not Stephanie. "Carlos," I spoke softly, and stroked his fingers one by one.

"Where am—"

"Walter Reed." I completed his thought. I didn't want him to tire too easily.

"Ok," he sighed.

"Do you recall—?"

He cut me off. "Don't." His tone was harsh.

"Ok. It's ok."

"No."

"Carlos, it will be ok."

He let go of my hand and turned his head away from me. I don't think he could bear for me to see the pain in his eyes. The dread. The revulsion.

"Carlos. Look at me. You, _you_ are the one who taught me, Carlos. You _will_ follow your own words. The only way out is through. And you _will_ get through." I had walked around the bed by this time; as I approached his head, he turned his cheek again away from me and squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

I stood where I was, and continued talking. "Fine. But still Carlos, you will. You can and you must. You can't wish it away-- wishing isn't doing; doing is all. And I know you." My voice was softer now, my anger at the situation exhausted, and something just this side of sympathy coating my voice with gentleness. I sighed as he kept his face turned from me, from having to look reality in the face. I wonder sometimes if my doctor face ever truly goes away.

"I'm going to let you rest, baby brother, because you are going to need it. But I won't be far. I'm not leaving you, ok?" I turned then, and with a determined stride swiped my pocket book off the chair and went to the door. As I touched the handle I looked back, and as I had expected his head was turned toward me, and I saw his eyes shut quickly.

"I know ya looked, Carlos," I chided, with the light laughter of pure knowledge. He thought he was dark and mysterious. Ha. "I didn't lie to you back in the day, baby brother. I never promised you that turning your life around after you got mixed up with those gangs would be easy. But I loved you, and I was by your side. You proved yourself by overcoming doubts and changing your life. I won't lie to you now either Carlos. It won't be easy, but ... you know I love you. Sleep well."

Closing the door carefully behind me, tears filled my eyes as I rested my forehead against the jamb for support and took a deep breath.


	56. Nights in white Satin, 7

**The Big Chill**

By Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, not making any money

Babe. Sorry about last weeks formatting

Angst.

Seriously, ANGST.

Nights in White Satin, 7

I had almost gotten to the place where I had accepted he was out of my life. Gone. Countless nights were spent staring at the ceiling, wondering if I would feel it when he died. _If_, I begged; not when, if. But Carlos had such a fatalistic world view that he had poisoned me, and I fought for three long months to remove the 'when' from those nightmares. All that time wondering how would I manage, how would I carry on, without him in my life?

As we walked the halls of the fourth floor corridor of Walter Reed VA hospital, I was wondering how exactly I was going to face him, now that I had been vindicated, and he hadn't been able to go off and die on me. Would he let me back in?

Sucker punched. That's how I felt. I was dragging along, leaden feet and roiling stomach. Bile was rising in my throat as I took each step closer to the reality that Tank had shared. Could I do this? Could I bear it if he rejected me?

Julie was about three steps ahead and she was trying to step on only the green linoleum tiles. Wow. Kids never change! I remember doing exactly the same thing at her age. I vaguely wondered what rhyme she chanted in her head as she hopped from square to square, her pigtails askew on her head, her rabbit flopping lazily out of the pink backpack she wore slung over one shoulder. I'd think of anything to avoid thinking about what was on the other side of the door down the hall.

But the gravitational pull Carlos had on me was stronger than any fear. I found myself struggling to move along the over-bright tunnel, the shine of the floor almost reflecting the lines of fluorescent tubing overhead. My shoes created a hollow, dread-filled tattoo that echoed in my ears. Tank took up the rear, probably in deference to his sanity. I think Julie and I together may have been a bit too much for the big, scary guy. A flashing vision of "The Green Mile" ran through my head. I think I knew exactly what those guys felt.

Julie took off in a full run as she reached the end of the hallway. I sped up a bit, knowing I should stay with her. She was just slipping out of Marina Dennison's arms by the time I got around the corner. Marina kept Julie pressed to her and pulled me into her embrace, and I almost lost it right there. I just wasn't from a family of huggers. Hugs were scary. Hugs were the harbingers of doom.

"Aunt Rina!!" Julie kept pulling at her, and Marina finally released me and scooped her back off the ground and into her arms. "You are getting too big, Miss Martine," Marina told her with a laugh as she shifted her in her arms. The girl was all legs. She had grown a few inches over the time she'd been gone, and lost some more baby teeth. I got a bit teary thinking she was growing up and Carlos was missing it. I shook my head, trying to clear it and stay on task. Marina, Tank and I all had moved to the waiting area. Julie was up and down, restlessly meandering around the room. One eye on her and one ear to Marina, I tried to take it all in.

Xxxxxxx

This was boring. I wanted to see daddy. Aunt Marina said he was sleeping. He had surgery and they put him to sleep for it. So we had to wait. I didn't like waiting. I didn't like this hospital either. But I was glad to see Stephanie, and Mr. Tank and Aunt Marina. I had missed them all when I was in Florida. I didn't ever want to live somewhere without daddy again. Then I got sad when I thought about Xavier. He wasn't here. I wished everyone lived in one place, and then I wouldn't miss anyone.

The plane ride had been fun. But I was going to miss my class trip to the aquarium, and that wasn't fun at all. I liked it better at the aquarium than at the hospital.

I got up again and walked around and looked at everyone. Stephanie was sitting like she was scared and Aunt Marina was telling her and Mr. Tank things about daddy. I know that daddy was very sick this time. Everyone was upset. I just wanted to see him. If I saw him, it would all be ok!

The walls in the hallway were the same color as the water in the aquarium. I walked out there and played pretend with Mrs. Wabbit. We looked at the walls and pretended we could sea turtles and seals, and tropical fishes and sharks and dolphins too, as we went from wall to wall. Then we came to a glass wall, and we looked in there to see what kind of fishes there would be. I thought maybe we would see Baby Beluga. But when we peeked through the window we didn't see that at all. Instead I saw my daddy lying in a bed. The room was dark, just like underwater, and he was sleeping.

I told Mrs. Wabbit we couldn't go in, even though she wanted to very much. She got upset, but we finally decided to look for more fishes. I wanted to find Nemo and Dorie. I liked Nemo because Nemo got lost once and his daddy never stopped looking for him. We were looking at each wall and door and window, but there wasn't a lot more to see. We got bored looking for fish and then I heard music and I looked behind an open door. It was a gym room like daddy has in the basement.

"Hello, there pretty girl," a lady said to me. She was standing at the balance beams like at ballet class, with someone helping her. But she was standing on really cool looking purple and pink legs with butterflies on one and flowers on the other. I never saw something like that before. I smiled a bit but hugged Mrs. Wabbit closer. I wasn't supposed to talk to strangers. I was gonna get in trouble for disappearing. I better go back. I turned around and followed the walls again.

Mrs. Wabbit and I decided we should go see daddy anyway. I pushed open the door when I saw no one was looking at us and we went inside. There were a lot of machines making beeps and noises, and they had the TV screens that had lots of lines and numbers. Aunt Marina told me last time they helped get Daddy better.

I tiptoed really slowly so I wouldn't wake him up and got really close to him. I had to put Mrs. Wabbit on top of him so I could grab the edge of the bed and climb up so I could reach his face.

I leaned on the bar and looked at my daddy. His eyes were closed and he was sleeping. His cheek was all covered in beard; he looked exactly the way he looked when I was a little girl and saw him for the first time ever.

But he had a lot of bandages. His head was all wrapped in white almost to his eyebrows. And his arm was huge and wrapped up too, lying on top of his blanket. I looked back at his face, and I smiled. I missed him. He looked so pretty asleep, but I wanted to hear him talk to me; I wanted to feel him. I carefully balanced on the railing and reached up to touch his forehead where there was no bandage. His skin was warm.

"Princess?" He whispered when he opened his eyes. I looked at him and smiled.

"Daddy!" I stepped up another step on the rail and I leaned over and kissed his cheek. Mrs.

Wabbit tumbled onto his face then and I giggled.

"Mrs. Wabbit came to see me, too?" His voice was very low, and it was hard for him to talk.

"Uh huh. And Stephanie and Mr. Tank and Aunt Marina, too. But they are outside. I sneaked in to see you," I whispered, and he gave me a really big smile then.

"That's my girl," he said. He wasn't angry at me for disobeying.

"I can stay?"

"Yeah, you can stay."

I climbed all the way up and sat on the edge of the bed by his head and rubbed his beard. "I love you daddy, don't make me leave anymore."

Xxxxx

"There you are! Julie Martine!" Marina pushed open Carlos's door and shook her head. She looked back at Tank and I who were just about to turn the place inside out searching for her. How can one child outwit three adults? I took a deep breath and got ready to say something to her about making me so scared by disappearing, but when I stepped into the room, I forgot it all. I saw them lying there and my mouth shut. Julie was perched carefully at her father's head, and she was leaning down, their faces close together, eyes closed. His arm was cradling her head to him.

"Caught, princess." I heard Carlos whisper to Julie as he rubbed her hair and squeezed her close.  
"Up you go," he said regretfully, and then he opened his eyes and looked towards the door.

I don't think he was any more prepared to see me than I was to see him. We both just looked at each other. The sounds in the room all were sucked away; I heard only the beating of my heart as I looked at him. He was alive. I could see the whites of his eyes, and I could see that his chest rose and fell; that he was with me again.

I watched Julie scramble down off the bed. I watched her tuck Mrs. Wabbit under Carlos's injured arm, I watched her walk to the door, and I heard the door close behind us, but I didn't really register any of it. I was surprised to see we were alone when I glanced behind me. I found myself within inches of his bed, and I was afraid. And overjoyed. And I wanted to touch him, to prove to myself he was real. He closed his eyes and turned his head away from me.

I took another step closer, willing him to feel me, willing him to look back at me, wanting to reach out and caress the skin of his forehead. Wanting to pull him into my arms and bawl like a baby now that he was home again. Anything but having him reject me.

"Carlos?" I attempted. Nothing. I took one more step, which put me within inches of the bed, and I looked at his profile. The angle of his cheekbone, the curve of his ear.

I watched as he slowly turned to me, and I saw fear, indifference, and anger in his face, and I heard it in his voice. "Stephanie."

He looked at me then. He reached his hand out to me, and I reached for him, but he only pulled me closer, and placed his hand on my stomach. I placed my hand over his, and I watched the tears build in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Carlos."

He turned his head away again, but I kept his hand in mine. "Thinking you would have my child, it made my mission bearable," he stated without emotion.

There wasn't a thing I could say right then to make it right. I simply held his hand against me, and closed my eyes, tears brimming along my lashes, and falling onto our clasped hands.

I remembered like it was yesterday. Being at Marina's office with my grandmother, getting cramps and not acknowledging what I knew to be true. That I wasn't pregnant, that I would never have a part of Carlos in my life.

Marina had to come and find me in the ladies room because I hadn't returned. She got me a pad, she sat with me and we cried together. She held me close and she promised me he'd come back. She promised me he'd still want me, that we would have another chance. She had had so much more faith than I. I had been so mortified by my behavior that I hadn't tried to contact her once over the past months.

He turned his head away from me again. It was the only way he could really control anything at this moment, other than yelling, screaming or shutting down. Yelling and screaming were my forte, not his. And I didn't want him to shut down. So I let him turn away. I know he was hurt that there was no baby. I was too. God knows, I was too. I also knew we were avoiding at least one of the other conversations that had to be had.

In the end I placed my hand on his shoulder firmly, commanding him through my touch to look at me again.

Finally he looked me in the eye, and I saw challenge, resignation and defiance in his eyes as he spoke softly. "They took my leg."

"No, they saved your life." I was shocked at how steady my voice sounded. I kissed his cheek gently, feeling the stubble of his beard and under that the heat radiating from his skin; it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. I was touching him again. He was alive and here and his hand was warm in mine. What more was there, really?

"I was prepared to die." His voice was flat, his mouth was held in a firm grimace and his eyes were for once not blank, but showed me the stoic temperament he was trying to project. I watched him close down. His eyes tightened, his jaw was tense with frustration. He turned his head away from me with a jerk. I heard the lingering hint of the loss of his self worth in his voice.

"Well I wasn't prepared to live without you. I win." I crossed my arms in front of me. That was that. I wasn't prepared to live without him. Simple. It really was just that simple after all.

I couldn't quite describe the sound that emitted from him. "Did you just snort??" I laughed lightly as I touched him, willing him to turn back and look at me. "There are lots of soldiers here suffering. Many have it worse," I commented softly, thinking of the variety of injuries I saw in hallways throughout the building. "Many have it worse, Carlos. Are you gonna whine?"

As I stood waiting for him to acknowledge me or argue with me, I decided I was a great actress. I deserved an Oscar. I hadn't been able to yet look down the length of his body. I didn't want to recognize the depths of reality. I wasn't ready for reality. My Adonis. My perfect god-like Carlos, proven mortal.

"You won't look at me, Stephanie. Don't think I haven't noticed. Your eyes haven't left my face once. You won't look." His words were soft, dull, pain-filled and accusatory.

"Oh no you don't!! Don't you dare make this about me, Carlos Manoso!" I began to seethe, my blood boiling. I strode to the bottom of the bed and reached for the cover. I wanted badly to pull it off with a resounding jerk, to have it fly in the air and land crumpled with a satisfying woosh. As I got ready to do just that, I came back to reality. He was gravely injured, there were wires and tubes and I didn't want to do anything wrong. I stopped dead for a moment and breathed in.

I ran my hand firmly and steadily down the full length of his right leg, squeezing his toes. Then I reached over and started again at the top of his left thigh, and more gently, hesitantly, I stroked the sheet, slowing down as I reached his knee, where the lumpy wrapping of his bandage began. I wouldn't run my hand below the knee, because I wasn't sure exactly where they had removed it. I almost choked on that thought. I sighed, and straightened up again. I only knew that Tank said it was below the knee, and that was a good thing. Marina had agreed. She said his recovery should be swifter, that below the knee was good. Good?

"Will I hurt you?" I looked up into his eyes for the first since I began my little tantrum. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm so doped up I thought I saw little green men in pink tights changing my bandages earlier. No, do it. Do it, Stephanie. Do it." He challenged me. Son of a bitch, he thought I would run away.

So I did it. I lifted the blanket, and I turned myself so he couldn't see my face, and I touched him. I ran my hands along the outside of his left leg, and I cupped my palm under his thigh, and I grazed my hand along the wrapped end of his leg, avoiding the drainage tubes and making sure my tears didn't fall on his skin. I bit my tongue and swallowed hard.

When I finally turned back to face him, the tears in his eyes surpassed those that I had just shed privately. I put my arms around his head gently and I cradled him in my embrace.

"Babe," he wept, his face buried in my hair.

"Carlos, I love you. I'll always love you," I murmured as I breathed in his essence and found the strength I would need in his nearness.

xxxxxx

I was awakened by the clicking of my door. At least I was becoming aware of my surroundings again. Enough of the damned hallucinations. I chose to ignore that I was being disturbed. I wasn't ready to join the world again. I didn't want more visitors. I chose to remain still with my eyes closed and hoped they'd go away. I heard someone clear their throat, and the rustling of paper. Fuck, a doctor. Again. I'm definitely asleep, guys. Sorry.

"Captain Manoso."

I opened my eyes with a start. That tone was not one to jerk around with. I recognized the voice of authority. There were two uniforms standing at the side of my bed, at parade rest.

I cleared my throat and spoke. "Sirs."

"The United States government would like to express its gratitude for a job well done, soldier."

"Sir."

"All of your mission objectives were met."

"Yes, sir."

"We wished to discuss the details of the unfortunate motorcycle accident you endured the day before yesterday. You were riding your motorcycle alone on a deserted stretch of rural mountain in West Virginia when you lost control of your vehicle on an oil slick. You suffered a compound fracture of your left tibia, which cut an artery in your leg. You managed to tie off a tourniquet before passing out from a head injury suffered because you neglected to wear a helmet. However, you were not discovered by a passing motorist until dawn. You were removed to the nearest medical facility for triage, and then brought here after the hospital discovered you were a veteran. Unfortunately your injuries were severe, and your injured leg was without blood circulation for too long."

I lay still, eyes closed, absorbing my new life history. A motorcycle accident. I'm supposed to say I lost my leg in a fucking motorcycle accident. On the back of my eyelids I saw the jungle that I had run through to safety; I could smell the heat and the moist greenness of the rainforest. My mind flashed to the bike that was sitting in the garage of RangeMan, a tarp covering it. Would I ever ride my Harley again? Feel the breeze skirting along my cheek, my hair flying? No helmet! Right.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, pressing on the tears to force them back. I took a deep breath, then another, and nodded. Shit, that hurt!

"Yes, sir. Thank you," I addressed the taller of the two, the one who took on the task of being the bearer of bad news. He seemed a little too comfortable lying. In the stiff way that only lifers tended to behave, they came a step closer in unison and one by one shook my left, uninjured hand firmly. With a brief nod, they swiveled on their heels and together walked away, their duty fulfilled. As they reached the door, the shorter one turned and thought to say thank you.


	57. Nights in White Satin, 8

The Big Chill Lacey Normal Lacey 14 178 2008-10-27T12:31:00Z 2008-10-28T00:59:00Z 1 2752 11616 322 114 14254 10.6845 BestFit MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 st2\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) }st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } /* Style Definitions */ {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";}

The Big Chill

Aliaslaceygreen

Not mine, not making any money

Nights in White Satin, 8

Babe.

Angst.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep till he woke me with a kiss to my cheek.

His voice was gravelly, and the warmth of it sent a shiver down my spine. "Babe, you've been here all night?"

"What? I… no. Carlos, its not morning. I mean… it… I… I guess we fell asleep." I looked around for a clock, and my eyes settled on a monitor over his head. Doing some convoluted math, I managed to get military time changed to the real world. "Shit, it's almost 11 pm!"

I struggled to move; to get up. How had I fallen asleep on the edge of the bed like this? I somehow had wedged myself between the sidebar of the hospital bed and the uninjured part of Carlos. I sighed to myself. The uninjured parts of him were so small. His head was swathed in bandages, and there were scratches healing beneath the bristles of his beard. His right arm had damage to the tendons which surgery had corrected. I didn't recall all that Marina said, only that she indicated it would make his recuperation longer, as he wouldn't be able to hold himself up with crutches till his arm healed some.

And then there was his leg. I was curled up against his left thigh, my knees bent, and the rest of me hanging off the edge of the bed. I didn't want to bump the bandage that was wrapped below his knee like a mummy.

"Stay," he whispered, and held my hand to him to stop me. "I sleep better with you by my side."

I smiled then. "I know what you mean. But I have to get up, ok?"

"Babe."

"I'll be right out, ok?" I pecked a kiss on his cheek, and made a beeline for the bathroom.

After taking care of the vital stuff, I splashed water on my face and looked at myself critically in the mirror. Despite a nap, I was pale and shaky looking from the worry of the last days. My hair was like a rat's nest and I had the biggest grin on my face. Carlos was alive and he was just in the other room. It wasn't a dream after all.

"Sleeping beauty awakes, then?" I heard Marina's voice laughing at her brother as I walked through the door back into the room.

"Rina," he growled, and a comforting kind of pressure wrapped itself around my heart. All is right with the world, I agreed to myself. Carlos is angry; Marina is baiting him; I'm here with him; Julie is…

"Hey, Marina where'd Julie get to?" I asked lightly, trying to deflect his anger just a bit; realizing she was my responsibility and I just blew her off.

"Tank took her to the hotel; she was ready to crash," she stated as she yawned. I looked at Carlos. We had taken a nap, too. His smile was small, but I saw it as our eyes locked.

Carlos almost choked as he tried to contain what I guessed passed for laughter. "Tank? Tank is babysitting my daughter? I don't know about that."

"Oh, I think Julie has his number Carlos, don't you worry." Marina was plucking at the bandages and poking about, checking out the patient as she spoke. I don't think she even realized what she was doing, it was such a part of her.

"I know she does, that's what worries me," Carlos stated as she prodded his scalp. She stopped and looked him then. "Carlos," she said, as she rolled her eyes at him.

His eyes were steely, and his voice was rough, but about as firm as I'd heard him since he got back. "Rina, get this catheter taken out."

"Hijo." she shook her head, walked to the bottom of the bed and picked up a bag. "You're not peeing yet. It stays till your doctor says so." Oh, gross, I thought. Please, let's not talk about this in front of me! She locked eyes with him as she walked the length of the bed and stroked that bit of forehead that was exposed. I could see the battle between the two siblings. It was intense and it was silent. I saw her handle him the way I had seen her handle my grandmother, the way she handled me.

He had no chance, and I think he was aware of it. I applauded his tenacity however in making the attempt. She leaned over and kissed him gently. "You've undergone huge trauma, Carlos. You've been so, so very sick. Will you please just let your body rest, let it heal for a bit?"  
 

As if to put an end to the argument, she changed topics as sharply has he had. "Are you planning on staying tonight?" Marina looked up at me.

Did I look like I just climbed out of his bed? She smiled at me. Shit, either I said that aloud or I looked like I had. "Can I?"

"I can get you a chair bed. But fasten your seat belt, it's going to be a bumpy night," she shook her head sadly. "He's not a good patient."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I woke in the morning cramped on the edge of his bed. I looked over at the chair, the blanket lying discarded on the floor. It hadn't made sense to keep going back to the chair every time he calmed down and fell asleep. Besides, he did seem to sleep better with me touching him. And it was a comfort to me far greater than the inconvenience of having a stiff neck.

"Shh, it's ok. I'll be back," I murmured as I climbed down off the bed. Glancing at the monitor, I saw it was nearly 6 am. He'd been sleeping now for three hours.

I snuck out into the hallway after using the bathroom. I needed coffee. Someone out here must be able to get me a cup of coffee. I padded across the hallway in my stocking feet to the nurses station, leaned on the counter, and put my head down.

"He asleep?"

"Yeah, I think this time he's getting some rest."

The nursed made a tsk-ing noise. "Fool should take the drugs they offer, you know."

I sighed in agreement. "I know. You just don't know him."

"Hhm… know plenty like him, for sure. Fools all of them." The nurse, a heavy set black woman of a certain age, who apparently didn't take any crap from her patients, eyed me up and down. "You'll be looking for coffee? Just through that door, sweetheart."

"I love you, you know that?" I smiled sideways at the nurse. Doris? Dorcas? Doreen? Doreen! "I love you Doreen," I mumbled as I stepped beyond her and found what passed as coffee. Ugh.

"Well, maybe love is too strong a word for coffee such as that, sweetheart. But it'll be better'n nothin'."

She handed me a stirrer and motioned for me to sit.

"Your husband truly is one of the tougher ones. Most miss a dose and then beg for the drugs again. Especially at night."

"He's not my husband," I said automatically. "He's my- Carlos and I, we--. He's very important to me," I ended up lamely and took a sip to hide my confusion and embarrassment. What was he to me? That was one conversation we still hadn't had yet.

Doreen reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "You love him. I can see that. You love him very much. There are showers and such down the hall if you want to freshen up without disturbing him," Doreen said as she stood. "Back to work. And there is a bed there too, not in use. Get some real sleep."

I hesitated. A shower. And a bed to stretch out in. "But Carlos might need me."

"I'll wake you if he needs you, ok?"

I was wavering, and she knew it. "Or in an hour, ok? I go off shift at 7. I will wake you before I leave, deal?"

"Deal."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was amazing the combined invigorating powers that a good cup of coffee, a shower, and a nap could have. Freshly bathed, newly rested and holding tightly to the 7-11 cup that Tank brought me, I pushed open the door to Carlos's room, more positive and upbeat than I would have believed possible just a few hours earlier.

Julie was already bouncing off the walls when I told her that Carlos was probably going to be a bit more alert today than yesterday. Tank told me privately that Julie had had a rough night too, very nervous about her daddy. Marina and Tank had taken some rooms at a nearby hotel, but Marina hadn't gotten there till very late last night. Poor Tank had to deal with Julie himself.

"Good morning, Carlos," I said as we stepped into the room. I saw we weren't alone.

"Morning, Daddy!" Julie ran to Carlos and started to climb the bed, but the nurse, an angry looking guy, glared down at her.

"Princess, babe," Carlos said, a smile trying to break past his self-imposed defenses, as he rubbed Julie's head and looked over at me.

"Can you give us five minutes, we are in the middle of something?" the nurse interrupted, and so with an apologetic shrug, I reached for Julie and we went right back out the door.

A few minutes later the nurse came out holding a suspiciously yellow bag, and we scooted back into his room.

I walked to him and giggled, "Free at last," into his ear as I kissed his cheek.

"Huhm," he growled.

"I kind of like this beard thing you've got going on Carlos. You're sexy all rough looking like this," I whispered into his ear. That got an even larger grunt from him. I let my cheek rest against his and just enjoyed it.

Julie allowed us a minute, no more, for yucky kissing stuff, as she called it. "Daddy, Daddy. Did Mrs. Wabbit sleep well?"

"Yes, she did. She was a very good rabbit for me, Julie. But I'm sure she missed you." He lifted his right arm carefully and released his borrowed bedmate. "Here you go," he held out Mrs. Wabbit.

Julie climbed onto the bed and kissed Carlos on his nose. "I love you, Daddy. Are you feeling better?"

"Seeing you and having all of you here is making me feel a lot better," he told her.

I watched him interact with her and for a moment, I almost believed him.

"I'm glad we came too, Daddy. I missed you."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"God babe, I hurt," I moaned. Why had I insisted they stop the drugs last night? What kind of martyr was I trying to be anyway? "I need to move, babe. I need to get off my back."

Stephanie was right beside me, eyes closed, waiting with me. Waiting. Waiting for what? She stood and rubbed her eyes. "Ok, I'll go find someone ok? It'll be ok." Damn, I woke her. I knew I had been a bear last night. Fuck, the pain was incredible. I hurt everywhere.

It took two people to move me. Fucking ridiculous. Stephanie squashed a pillow and propped it against my chest so I could rest my right arm on it. I tried to haul myself over onto my left side and the orderly helped to move my left leg out of the way so I could rest my right leg in front of me.

But what relief. God, it felt good not being flat on my back! I was exhausted from simply being moved.

Once situated more comfortably, I tried to rest. The doctor of course chose to make an appearance at that moment. I closed my eyes and ignored him. I wasn't ready to have any conversations about my condition. I was in so much pain; my brain wasn't particularly capable of sorting out what he would have told me in any event. I found myself drifting back into an uneasy sleep. Whether I was in pain or not, I needed rest, and I was sure my body would eventually just take over.

I woke to throbbing in my leg. It was more intense than I had ever felt it, and it startled me into consciousness. I found that it was because there were two nurses unwrapping the yards of gauze that protected it.

_"_Sorry, Captain Manoso. Didn't mean to disturb you."

"Urgh."

"Doctor Olson said to remove the drain, ok? Its gonna hurt a second. Then we'll just clean up and wrap you back up ok?"

I grunted my--well, not my approval. I didn't approve of them poking about any more than I approved of Rina having a look here and there.

But I could do as little to stop them as stop Rina, so I called it a loss and moved on.

"Can you, uh, sit me up?" I asked. "Where's the button?"

"Here, sir."

I slowly allowed myself to roll back over, and hit the button to elevate. I didn't take my eyes off the nurse. She had pretty eyes. Green. Like the rainforest. Shit. I felt like if I took my eyes off her, the world was going to implode. She knew it, too. She didn't break contact with me as I raised up. She reached over and took my hand in hers, her eyes never losing me.

The other nurse was still poking around. Green Eyes squeezed my hand. "It's ok, Captain Manoso. Do you want to look?" Her voice was soothing. She dropped her eyes down to my leg, forcing me to do the same.

I knew better than to try to deny it. Yet, I was having a hard time looking down. Get it together, soldier, I reprimanded myself. You have to deal with the cards you've been dealt. You lost your leg. You need to face it. You can't get over it till you accept it.

One glance at the raw wound where I expected my calf to be and I felt the bile rising to my throat. I had to drop back onto the bed and close my eyes. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Good fucking Christ I'm quoting Scarlett O'Hara!

Green Eyes and her silent twin finished their bandaging without another attempt at conversation. I was more comfortable on my side, so they wrestled me back into that position before leaving.

I fell back into a restless, nightmare-filled slumber. I heard movement in the room and then Steph's soft voice behind me. "I can do that," she said. "You're just bathing him right, not cleaning a wound or anything? I can bathe him."

"Ok, suit yourself," I heard, and then the door closed.

I heard water being rung from a washcloth, and then Stephanie came up to me and carefully pulled on the covers. She took the cloth and wiped it along my neck. It was warm and her hands were touching me everywhere she ran the cloth. She bent over and kissed my ear, then wiped the cloth along the side of my face. "Carlos," she breathed into my ear.

"Mmm." I could get used to this, I thought, as she took the warm cloth, and gently rubbed it down the length of my back. "Your ass is showing," she giggled, and swiped the cloth again, before pulling the sheet back over me.

"See something you like?" I murmured lazily. She was putting me to sleep, the kind of sleep where I didn't think nightmares could reach me.

"Oh. Yes. Lots," she said quietly against my cheek, as she reached under the stupid gown they had me in and continued her gentle ministrations. The heat from her skin, the close contact and scent of her near me, the warmth and comfort of being bathed like this was taking away all the pain, and replacing it with a dull throbbing need that was more than sexual. It was erotic, essential, and so very, very welcome. "Babe. Don't stop. Please, you feel so wonderful touching me."

Feeling her lips caress my shoulder with a kiss was the last conscious thought I had before slipping into a dreamless sleep.


	58. Chapter 58

**The Big Chill,** By Aliaslaceygreen.

Not mine, not making any money.

So sorry for the long delay; thanks for holding on! Real life and all that. The bolded words are answers to a variety of challenges that I wanted to answer. (better late than never)

Nights in White Satin, 9

"Rangeman."

I heard the door to my room ease shut, and a grin skimmed across my face before I even opened my eyes. Tank. I knew he had been hovering in the background the last day or so, but I'd been so out of my mind with pain and fury that my world had revolved around the twin comforts of Stephanie's hands ministering me, and the soft kisses and touches that Julie offered. I hadn't been with it for **more** than a few minutes at a time.

I felt a breeze of air hit my leg. I opened my eyes to see Tank lift the covers off the corner of the bed, bend down and peer under them. "Shit, man, can't let you go nowheres unattended, can we?" he stated as he stood back up, shaking his head side to side. He dropped the blanket with a thud back onto my lower half.

I growled, "Fuck off, Tank." I tried to sound aggravated, to glare at him with reproach, but I hadn't the strength yet. He laughed, the bastard.

"Stephanie." Tank nodded a hello towards her. "I've got this shift, ok? Go get some **real** rest tonight."

Stephanie stood up to greet him, and she stretched her arms over her head, and rocked her head back and forth as she tried to loosen up. It was a sight to behold, her breasts pressing tautly against her tiny blue t-shirt, and got parts of me stretching, too. Must be starting to feel human again. I wanted to reach out my fingers and trail them along her ass, but she moved away from my reach as she finally murmured, "Oh, no. Uh, Tank. It's ok."

"Julie would prefer you as her keeper than me, I'm thinking."

"Right, well, but…" I watched her, a sheepish grin breaking out on her face as she looked down at me then up at Tank's hovering mass. She shrugged. "I've been kind of staying in his bed with him, helping him through the pain."

Tank's laughter filled the room. "Yeah, I'm not doing that. Love ya and all that shit, friend, but gotta draw the line somewhere."

"Carlos, would you take the drugs tonight? Just the one dose?" The look in her eyes, the almost pleading tone in her voice, made it through the haze of my own pain. She must be sore, I realized, squeezed onto the edge of the bed or sleeping on the chair beside me. But she wouldn't say so. I wished I could rub away the tension in her shoulders, take the hurt, the **fear,** from her eyes that I saw there as she watched me interact with Tank.

Then Tank came to my side, butted Steph out of the way, and made to climb onto the bed. She giggled, which is what he was after. She looked at me and said, "**I think you're going to need a bigger **bed."

"I get a bigger bed then _you're_ staying, babe. How long have I been here?"

"About 56 hours now," Tank responded.

"And you have all been here, too?"

"Yes."

I looked at her. She broke my heart, the way her eyes lit up as they looked at me, then pain glazed over them as she took in the surroundings, came back to reality. She was so good to me. So worried. I didn't know what it was I had done to win her affections, what caused her to ignore the horrible way I'd treated her a few months back. But I wanted more than anything to ease her heart. **I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me, how different a man I had become for knowing her; a better man**. She made me more human, when I hadn't even realized I was lacking. I wanted to tell her that, but I didn't. **I** **did it my way,** as always. I fucked it up.

"Go, Stephanie." I turned my head away from her, sinking back into the pillow, into the bitterness of my pain, the misery of my anger.

"Carlos?"

"Go," I growled again. I suffered a pang of conscience at the hitch in her voice, and added, more gently, "It'll be fine. Tank is used to me, and knows my every **flaw**, my every weakness." I wouldn't turn toward her, though.

I heard her start toward me, and then Tank's low voice ushering her out of the room with nonsense talk about how he was going to set me straight, not to take me personally at the moment.

As he settled into the chair after seeing Stephanie out, I changed the subject abruptly, not interested in hearing from Tank _again_ how I was a mess when it came to women. "Where is my daughter, by the way?"

"Down at the gym, more'n like. She's a hit with the soldiers, buddy. Quite the charmer she's getting' to be, Manny." I groaned at the old nickname, and raised an eyebrow in question.

"She's managed to get herself three or four beaus among the soldiers down near the Physical Therapy Room. She's ready to run for prom queen or **mayor** of the hospital after a day. Wrapped them all around her little finger."

"She shouldn't be exposed to all of that. That--." That misery, the harsh realities of war, the horrific injuries I was sure she was witnessing. I didn't bother saying it. Tank knew. My little girl should stay innocent a while longer.

"She's eating it up, man. Got those guys all smiling and shit." Tank smiled then. His hands mimicked the shape of an hourglass as he continued, "I was talking at one of the charge nurses in the gym, a pretty little bit about so high, breasts, the whole package, yah know?"

Yeah, I know, I thought. I closed my eyes again and saw Stephanie standing, her straining breasts, recalled the scent of her curled close around me all night, trying to not hurt me further. But I just let him continue on.

"Well, she said how like you'll be down there one day soon she saw no reason Julie couldn't hang about. She makes the men laugh. And I can keep an eye on her, you know?"

I raised an eyebrow at Tank. "Julie or the nurse?" He'd never settle down for just one woman. He saw women like a buffet, and his was a big appetite. And he'd taste all the flavors of the world before settling down.

"Hey man, I gots needs, too," he stated, a belly laugh forming.

But he straightened up and chilled out as I continued. "You _need_ to take her back to Florida. She can't stay here. She doesn't belong here. What were you thinking bringing her here, anyway?"

"Wasn't me, Rangeman. Talk to the lady, she wanted Julie to be with you."


	59. Nights in White Satin, 10

The Big Chill,

Nights in White Satin, 10

Aliaslaceygreen, not mine, not making any money

A real bed, a shower, and a few hours outside the stench of the hospital had done me a world of good. I could only imagine how Carlos was handling the antiseptic torture, the constant interruptions while he tried to heal, and the helplessness I knew he must be feeling.

Julie had obviously recharged too, or maybe that was just the syrup she poured all over her pancakes at IHOP. Whatever it was, I wished I could bottle it! Her energy, her enthusiasm, and her positive attitude blew me away. Her father's injuries weren't scaring her—at least not in the big picture way. She accepted without question that he was different now, but he was still Daddy. All the grown-up ramifications of losing his leg were lost on her. It didn't register in her mind that his sense of self was damaged. That he would be worried about appearances, worried about providing, worried about having worth in the world at large. She was simply running through the hallway with abandon, already familiar with the layout, heading for her father, because she loved him.

I got to his room as she was struggling to climb up into his bed while not letting go of her rabbit. I stood back, and leaned against the door as I watched them interact.

"Daddy?"

"Princess," he sighed quietly. He sounded tired. I wondered if he had had a good night or not. If Tank had convinced him to medicate, or if he was determined to tough it out.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Better, now that you are here, sweetheart."

She giggled as she plopped onto the bed, jostling Carlos so much I thought he might scream from the pain, but he didn't, of course. He closed his eyes and bit his tongue while I watched her snuggle into his embrace. His face did seem to soften with genuine comfort as she lay against him I noted, before he spotted me and put up the false walls he was determined to hide behind.

She sat up after a moment and noticed that some of his bandages had been removed. "Your head looks icky, Daddy." She leaned forward and kissed his battered forehead gently. "I'll make it better, ok?"

"Thanks. So, where have you been all day long?"

"All day? We just had breakfast Daddy, its still morning."

"Hmm."

"You're silly, Daddy."

"You're probably right, Julie."

"Mrs. Wabbit wants to stay with you today, ok?"

"Yeah, sure, Julie."

He looked distracted. I watched him from the shadows, but I couldn't quite figure out where his mind was. However, something held me back, kept me from intruding on them. I guess I just liked the look of them together. It made my heart ache, to recall him pushing her away. I hoped he saw now how important he was in her world. I hoped he could feel how important she was in his world. At the sound of his voice calling out to her, I realized that the hadn't learned a god-damned thing.

"Julie", he said, calling her name twice before she turned to look at him. His voice was flat, and to my adult ears, ominous. I wanted to step in and stop it. Whatever he was about to say, I wanted to prevent it. I could hear the blank monotone; I could hear the doors shutting on his heart.

As I started to enter the room, Tank's deep, quiet voice rumbled behind me. "No, Steph." I looked up to see him standing with a bag from 7-11 and a couple of coffees balanced in a cardboard carrier. Handing me the coffee, his now free hand reached out. His fingers encircled my upper arm, and he stilled me. "Shit's gonna hit the fan," he nodded, and settled in behind me, listening. He didn't release me, as we stood, listening.

"Julie, you need to go back to Florida soon."

"No. I want to stay with you!"

"You have school."

"Daddy," she whined. "I can go back to my old school. I don't want to go back to Florida. I want to live with you again. I miss you, Daddy!"

Carlos didn't miss a beat, didn't acknowledge a word she said. "And your brother. I'm sure Xavier misses you. I'm sure he needs his big sister."

"You need me more. I don't want to leave you." She was on her knees, her hands planted on his chest. Her face, that miniature Carlos face, was staring down at him with the same intensity of will that his bore. It was like a mirror. "Somebody needs to take care of you, Daddy."

"Tank will take you back to your Aunt Michelle's on Sunday."

"Sunday? No, Daddy! I have to stay. I have to be here on Tuesday."

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she continued in a rush.

"I promised Captain Jamie that I would be here on Tuesday when he gets to stand up on his new legs! He needs me here. I promised him."

She slid down the bed in hot anger. She turned to look at her father, and growled at him, tears streaming down her face, "I don't break my promises!" She got by both me and Tank before we could even think of grabbing her.

I got ready to turn toward her but Tank stopped me. "Leave the child be," he muttered, and then strode fully into the room. "Good job, Ranger."

"Who the fuck is Captain Jamie?" Carlos asked. He didn't seem upset at Julie's outburst particularly, but simply confused.

I was shaking, as I stood speechless in the doorway. I wanted to go and hold Julie close to my heart, to let her beat on me with her fists like I could tell she had wanted to hit her father. Her anger was so palpable. The other part of me wanted to just go in and hit her father on her behalf.

"Someone who obviously deserves her attention more than you. You are a fucking fool, you do know that, don't you?" Tank threw the bag on the table beside the bed. "Colossal fuckin' jerk. You will never learn. The world doesn't revolve around you, Manny. Never has, never will."

I cleared my throat, trying to break the cord of tension that ran between the two of them. "Your coffee, Tank?" I gave him a little smile; one that no one would be fooled into thinking was real. "Is the other for me? Or are you taking up even more bad habits?" I looked at Carlos quickly, and then away. My hand still itched to leave a bright red mark on his face.

"It's yours, Steph. I'm outta here. My bed's calling; it was a rough night."

He walked to the door, and turned. "I'll go check on Miss Julie first. She'll be down at the gym, I'm sure. I'll let Marina know to keep her eye on her, ok?" He addressed me only. His eyes didn't even skim Carlos. Rough night indeed.

I nodded, and sat down on the chair beside Carlos. I watched him for a few moments, laying still, his face turned away from me.

Curiosity finally got the better of me, and I peeked inside the bag. Donuts! Heaven. I rustled the bag loudly as I removed one and leaned back into my chair. I might as well enjoy a donut while I waited for him to start talking. I wasn't quite sure I could remain civil if I started first. Stuffing my mouth seemed the best course of action.

"Stuff's gonna kill ya, babe." I looked up, powdered sugar all over my fingers, and took one last bite. His smile was crooked, and small. I might even go so far as to say he looked embarrassed. If that was a look he could muster, which I didn't think he could. Not unflappable Carlos.

I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. "Something's gotta." I began to lick and suck the sugar off each of my fingers, industriously ignoring his stare.

I looked up finally, and his eyes were black. With anger or lust, I couldn't tell. I popped my lips closed as my finger slipped from my lips and stared back. I was plucking the tiger's tail, and I knew it.

"I don't want to talk about it," he finally muttered, as I sat, not breaking eye contact.

"We have plenty of time to talk, Carlos. Time is all we have. We are sitting here, waiting for you to get better; we might as well start to tackle some of the bullshit."


	60. You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman

The Big Chill,

By Aliaslaceygreen. Not mine, not making any money.

Coming in for the home stretch, babes! Thanks for sticking by me this long (TWO years??? Yikes)

Please review!

_You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman _

Aretha Franklin - Natural Woman Lyrics

Looking out on the morning rain  
I used to feel so uninspired  
And when I knew I had to face another day  
Lord, it made me feel so tired  
Before the day I met you, life was so unkind  
But you're the key to my peace of mind

Because you make me feel,  
You make me feel, you make me feel like  
A natural woman

When my soul was in the lost-and-found  
You came along to claim it  
I didn't know just what was wrong with me  
Till your kiss helped me name it  
Now I'm no longer doubtful of what I'm living for  
And if I make you happy I don't need to do more

Because you make me feel,  
You make me feel, you make me feel like  
A natural woman

Oh, baby, what you've done to me  
You make me feel so good inside  
And I just want to be close to you  
You make me feel so alive  
You make me feel,  
You make me feel, you make me feel like  
A natural woman

"I'm not interested in talking, babe." His words were lackluster, deadened. "Come over here. I'm tired of talking," he mumbled, but there was a glint of something alive in his eyes.

I stood up and went to him, shocked at my outburst. Horrified, in fact. I just told off Batman! I gently sat on the edge of his bed, looking at him with a kind of wonder. I had treated him as merely human, and nothing struck me blind.

So, I did what I do best. I bluffed. Turned it around. "Ok, just a minute, buster. You aren't about to weasel your way out of this. Exactly who are you trying to kid? You don't talk. I know that much about you. It's the one definable, quantifiable piece of information _everyone_ knows about you. You don't talk. You don't share. It's all kept inside, you are an island." Brave words, coming from me, the queen of denial. What would his reaction be? Would he even react, or simply turn his head again and ignore me?

"Stephanie." Harsh. Angry. Whatever humor or lust I had seen in his gaze a minute ago was gone. I was in for it now.

"No, Carlos. No! You think this is easy for any of us? For Julie, for me? Marina and Tank? It's killing me." Shit. I was losing it. My voice raised an octave with each word. Panic. That was what I was feeling. Sheer panic.

"Babe." Pleading. But it was too late. I couldn't turn back now. I felt a full head of steam rising, as I thought of Julie's face as she dashed out of the room.

"I know. I know. It's not about me. It's about you. Always, it's about Carlos. If Carlos doesn't want to get his hands dirty in a relationship, then it's over. No one else has a say. I get it. If Carlos doesn't want to deal with being a father, then he stops, he just hands off the responsibility. If Carlos doesn't want to face the reality that his life has changed then far be it for anyone to attempt to tell him otherwise!"

There was steam rolling off him too, I could see it. The stress of his injuries had left him with less ability to hide behind the mask he normally wore. There were cracks, and through them I could see waves of fury rolling over him. Good! Something has to make him feel _something_! This wishy-washy bullshit is for the birds. Oh, hell, I was in for it all now. I bent down and growled, my teeth clenched. "But I'm not going anywhere. Until you tell me exactly what the fuck you do want. And how you could hurt Julie that way! My god!"

Xxxxxx

I didn't know what I was supposed to do. My entire world was unraveling around me. I had no control over anything or anyone. People did what they wanted, when they wanted; they didn't consult me. They didn't consider my thoughts on the matter at all. No, they just went ahead and hired fucking gang-bangers into my company and shot me up with drugs and decided when I was to bathe, to eat; goddamn it if they could make me shit on command they would.

Last night was bad; I'll be the first to admit it. Tank betrayed me. Twice, he betrayed me. He told me about hiring one of the Bloods, that he brought him into Rangeman. Didn't wait on me. Didn't give it a second thought. I was too angry to admit hiring Hector Escabado was a good move. The kid was smart, strong, and he didn't seem to want to be in the gang, but it was the only path he knew. I was too angry to accept that my leaving Tank in charge for over three months, with him not knowing what would come next… but damn it all to hell, it's my company!

The fact he let the nurses administer narcotics at 3:30 this morning was something I would probably not forgive as easily. My head was clogged, it felt full of cotton. I couldn't formulate a persuasive argument against a thing Stephanie was saying. I wasn't ready to admit it was for any reason other than the drugs. I would not yet yield that she was right about everything.

I did want to speak with Julie, to try over again. I'd messed up, trying to send her away like that. Of course, I couldn't go find her. I couldn't get up from the fucking bed. I could barely pull myself into a sitting position without screaming from the pain. Pain that seemed to get worse every time the damned drugs wore off, which was why I didn't want them in the first place. And even if I could get up, I couldn't walk. I only had one leg. And no crutches, no wheelchair, no prosthetic. I was totally dependent on others. I didn't like the feeling one bit. My forced reliance on other people certainly wasn't helping my mood.

I closed my eyes, but for the first time since I'd regained consciousness, for the first time since all these people showed up---to worry over me, to try to convince me I was a person worth love, worth the effort---I didn't turn my head away. I knew I was killing Stephanie bit by bit, every time I refused to look at her. Every time I actively denied her and shut her out, I knew I was hurting her. Now, I felt her hand hovering over mine, not sure if she should touch me. _I_ did that to her. _I_ made her afraid of touching me. Damn it.

I moved my hand slowly, unsurely, until my fingers wrapped around hers. I squeezed her fingers together. I tried to express all of my uncertainties in my touch. My apologies and my fears. As soon as I exerted pressure, she was all over me. She leaned into me, and cradled my head in her embrace. She rubbed her cheek across the top of my head, ruffling my hair. I could feel her warm breath on my scalp, the slight hiccupping of her teary murmuring. The softness of her breasts. I hadn't felt so incredibly loved, so owned by another soul, since I was a small boy in my mother's arms. The safe haven of my mother's embrace, a place where I knew all the bad things in the world could be denied, where safety and love were assured. I remembered the feeling of shelter and sanity when held by Mami as if it were yesterday. Her long ago loss and the great damage I may have caused to Julie earlier crashed down on me. I was my mother. Julie was me. I was failing them both.

Xxxxxx

The pressure of his fingers on mine freed something in my heart. I felt as if we'd suddenly reached across miles. In the blink of an eye, we were together, facing the same direction, and he knew it. He accepted the support. All for one and one for all. I felt a warm, wet trickle on my forearm, and I pulled away in surprise. There were tears slowly sliding down the planes of Carlos's cheek. No racking sobs, no guttural, blotchy, snotty face; he cried quietly, resigned it seemed, to a new day. I didn't try to stop his tears, I didn't try to reassure him with stupid platitudes. I simply let him cry. I held him for long minutes, not moving, not speaking. Simply loving him.

He squeezed my hand again, and took a deep breath. I pulled away and looked at him then, and my heart constricted. I knew at this moment, for the first time, what love was. What truly loving someone meant. Not attraction, not lust. Deeper than any pain I'd ever felt in my life, the pain and the uncertainty written on his face became my pain. I wiped my hand across his cheek, drying his tears. He didn't look away. He didn't try to hide himself.

"Babe," he mouthed, his eyes locked on mine. I held his gaze. I memorized the complete trust and love I saw in the depths of his chocolate stare. His breathing slowly regulated, and he seemed to be pulling himself together. Strand by strand, I could see the Carlos I knew so well taking over. I chuckled inwardly. I should be glad I got any glimpse, that he let me see he was human after all.

"Absolutely no one is to know about this. Not. A. Soul."

"Of course," I nodded conspiratorially. "I'll lean on you and you lean on me and we'll be okay," I mumbled as I bent down once more to press my lips against his forehead, a smile forming as I felt the warmth of his skin.


	61. Natural Woman, 2

The Big Chill,

Aliaslaceygreen,

(Characters are Not ALL Mine, Not making any money)

You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman 2

"Babe, I like this feeling."

I felt his warm breath tickle my chest. I had to think for a full second to decide if he was being sarcastic, or letting me know he was getting turned on or if he was truly feeling something at this moment. I couldn't decide which I preferred. Suddenly I realized he was playing me. He was making an attempt, feeble though it was, to get out of the deep hole he had dug.

"Well, buster," I said with a laugh, trying to keep things light, "No matter what you like, you are NOT getting out of talking. Just so ya know."

I didn't have to look to see the grin that was almost certainly curling on his lips when he said, "Figured I couldn't distract you that easily." His fingers had strayed to cup my breast; the warmth of his palm made my heart race. My racing heart, his warmth, both things I had thought I'd have to live without, both back in my possession.

I pulled away and looked into his eyes. "Seriously Carlos. You have a LOT of explaining to do to Julie. What were you thinking?"

His hand dropped and he turned his attention to the window behind me. "I can't take care of her. She has school, her friends; all that is in Florida now. She loves Michelle. Michelle is a good mother to her." He wouldn't look at me. I could almost hear the quiet desperation in his voice.

I refused to stop staring at him. I wanted him to feel me looking at him, to know that I was seeing him. I wanted him to know I understood him. This needs to get fixed, for once and for all. Now seemed as good a time as any, I decided, so I dove right in.

"No, Carlos, that is where you have her living. She loves you, and _you_ are here. She loves her aunt, I'm sure. However, she wants to _be_ with you. She's your daughter, not Michelle's. Besides, you can raise her. If you want to you can do it. You are resourceful. You are intelligent. Furthermore, you know that your leg has nothing to do with being a father! If you want it enough…."

His eyes, as they caught mine again, were full of emotion. I saw a storm brewing in the depths of his gaze. I let my voice fade as my thoughts trailed off. I felt myself getting steamed again, and I didn't want to break the truce we had managed to create. 'You are not a quitter!' I screamed at him in my head. 'That's me!' How had our roles reversed?

I continued to stare at him. I could see him thinking, the gears shifting, weighing his options. It was amazing what I could read on his face once he let the mask slip away. He turned away from my gaze and closed his eyes. Don't do it, I begged silently. Don't shut her out. The minutes ticked by, and I thought maybe his bad night had caught up with him and he'd dozed off.

After a long time of uneasy silence, he opened his eyes and looked at me with a piercing gaze. He had reached a conclusion. "She can stay for the summer, after school lets out. If I am out of here. If you will stay with us. We'll see how it goes then. It's all I can offer, Babe."

I nodded dazedly. All he can offer is _everything_? Stay with him? Stay with him! God yes, I will stay with him, with them! Does he finally understand what I have known these past months? That we belong together? He won't admit it, I'm sure. It will have to be enough, to simply _do_ it. That's enough.

I nodded again, barely trusting my voice, "Ok."

"She may need to go back. You need to make sure she understands, Babe. I can't promise her anything."

"Promise her only that you will try, Carlos. That's all anyone can ask. That you try."

"I just want her to be aware."

"I understand. However, you will tell her she can stay yourself. That's not my job."

"But if you are staying with us…"

"In what capacity? Messenger? Babysitter?"

"Lover. You are my life, Babe. I'm asking you to stay because I need you in my life."

Holy shit! Too deep. Way too deep! Pull back. I continued to goad him playfully. I couldn't handle _that_ yet. "Because I can fetch?"

He wasn't interested in my goofing around however. I almost fell over as he continued earnestly, "Because you love Julie as much as I do. Because the idea of dying last week was OK with me, because I thought you were having my child. I knew someday you'd forgive the way I treated you ….."

"I'll never excuse that, Carlos. Ever. I may forgive, and I may let you slide on it, but never will I be able to forget the way you made me feel. Empty. This was what was left when you were gone…Nothing."

My hands dropped to my stomach, and I cradled our imaginary baby. My lip quivering, I turned away from him. I couldn't control the tears that swelled in my eyes. Shit.

I felt Carlos's fingers trail along my arm. I craved his touch so much! I leaned in and let him squeeze my hand in his. "Babe. Now, the idea of dying …of leaving you behind…alone….it doesn't hold up so well." I gave up trying to be strong and in control and I perched on the edge of his bed, our fingers entwined, my watery eyes locked on his, as he continued.

Xxxxxxxx

"What I thought my life was supposed to be about, what I thought my goals were—I… well, I believe I may have been misguided. I think maybe my priorities were fucked up."

I looked at Stephanie as I spoke, and the expressions that came and went as I soul-searched aloud were priceless. She has a very expressive face, and I think I was scaring her shitless at some points. But three months in a rainforest jungle with nothing but your own brain for company--.

Being in that situation had never messed with my head before. However, since I had experienced love, I had found it hard to separate my worlds. I'd done stints before in horrible places where I was Public Enemy Number One, and surviving was no more than a challenging game. Back then, I hadn't known Julie, or fatherhood. And I never thought I would encounter love in my life. The experience of being in Stephanie's world changed everything in my head. It almost re-wired my thinking.

I think it surprised me somewhat, how nervous she was when things started to get intense. She wanted to quip and play games. I was dead serious. She was my life. She and Julie both. And that scared me beyond comprehension. Nevertheless, I think it was time to be perfectly honest. Last night had been no picnic. Tank had laid into me like the friend I hoped I would be, had the roles been reversed. I respected him for it, despite my aggravation. I didn't like not being right. He had done everything exactly as I would have, from going along with Stephanie's idea of collecting Julie, to hiring Hector, to getting me doped up so I could rest. Once I had gotten some real rest, I could admit to feeling the difference that pain-free sleep made.

Maybe it was just that I was healing some. I was feeling more like a person since the bandages had come off my head. I had been able to move my arm some; no fine muscle control, but I'd lifted it up and down without horrid pain.

Our eyes locked and we realized that words were not necessary. We touched each other for the longest time. Her hands in mine, the contact of flesh to flesh, the energy that passed between us--. She was recharging me.

Finally she let go, and brushed a lock of hair from my forehead. Her fingers began to slowly massage my temples; soft steady strokes of comfort.

After a time, she asked, "How do you feel today?"

"Human. Almost, anyway. The pain has become more—localized, I guess. I feel my arm, but I can tolerate it. My head doesn't bother me. My leg? Well. It's _just_ my leg, though. I don't feel like my whole body has been used as a punching bag any longer. So, I guess it's progress of a sort." Her fingers were so soothing. The pressure of them, their warmth, their soft texture as they massaged me, leveled out my sense of fear and apprehension. I could hear the lethargy of comfort slipping into my voice.

She quietly asked, "Tell me what happened."

I looked at her, a question in my eyes. Comprehension set in, and it occurred to me that this was almost a test. The challenge of doing what was right for me, versus what was right for us. Fuck. Relationships are hard!

I closed my eyes however. I didn't want to lie while looking her in the eye. "I trashed my bike. I hit an oil slick."

"Where?"

"Up in the mountains, outside some town in West Virginia," I stated dully. Drop it, I thought. Just drop it.

"No." she stood up then, and said it again. "No. That's not right. Tank told me you were out of the country. They were flying you into the States that night."

"Tank was wrong. I was riding my bike on the mountain and slid on an oil slick. That's what happened."

"No. That's not like you. Carlos! You wouldn't be so careless." She actually stamped her foot. "What happened?"

"Babe." I begged her with my eyes to just drop it.

"But you said you were _prepared_ to die. That you would have preferred that to this." She waved her hands up and down my body. "You just said it again a few minutes ago," she challenged me.

"It's just the way it is, Babe. Please. It's the way it had to happen, ok?" I reached my hand out to her. I needed to make this right. I needed the contact of her skin on mine; I needed to send through my touch some way of telling her I wasn't actually lying, but that the Feds had gagged me.

"Babe, do you recall last fall? How I had Morelli thinking I was in a gang?"

"Huh? Yeah, but what does that have to….oh. Oh…ok. You can't---- you have to say that you _caused_ this? There couldn't be a way to make it not seem like you were so careless? That's not fair, Carlos! How could…"

I interrupted her ranting by laughing aloud. "Babe, I love you. Did you know that? I love you. For caring so much about me; worrying about my position on this. You are right of course. On all counts," I added, with emphasis. "But it's the agreement that I went into, fully aware. I can't change the rules half way through the game."

I grabbed her hand as she came close and held on to her tightly. "Babe." I looked straight into her eyes and told her once again, "I will never lie to you; I will always tell you all that I can tell you. Please believe me." I couldn't believe how important it was to me that she understood.

Thanks for reading and reviewing….getting close!!!!!


	62. Natural Woman, 3

The Big Chill,

Aliaslaceygreen,

(only SOME characters are mine, not making ANY money)

You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman, 3

Normally, the sights, sounds, and smells of a hospital soothe me. Even though this hospital is not mine, and I am just a visitor, walking through its halls has been somewhat, well I don't know if you'd exactly say it has a religious quality to it. But, it is meditative. Yes, it's odd, but it's probably why I became a doctor.

Today, right now however, I wasn't truly aware of any of the soothing qualities. Tank had just filled me in on the latest of my idiot brother's disasters. You would think being stuck in a hospital bed with people hovering around him, caring for him hand and foot would keep him safe from calamity, but nothing can keep him safe from himself.

I was hunting down my little Julie to make sure she was OK. What an ass I have for a brother! Chances are she ran straight to the gym, to see if any of the soldiers would be around. She had developed a crush on at least one of the patients on this floor, and I have to admit, these men and women were very tolerant of a seven year-old making a pest of herself.

Her main heartthrob for the moment was a certain Private James Kerran. And, having looked him over, I could see why she would fall for him. Hell, the fact he was younger than my sons made it somewhat creepy to be eyeing him that way, and Julie was far too young to be eyeing him that way…but just about everyone seemed to eye him that way. He was an eyeful!

Sun-bronzed skin that you knew was his normal tone, and a buzz cut that couldn't hide the fact he was a natural beach blond. You could easily imagine him and his bright white smile out on the sand in southern California, charming the girls. It was a shame to see him cut down like this, but his attitude was highly impressive, not to mention addictive. You couldn't help but have a smile on your face around him.

I rounded the corner and looked through the windows of the gym. About six patients were there, receiving a variety of physical therapies that would soon be Carlos's lot. I could hear Julie's chattering before I spotted her. I looked to the corner nearest the door, where a wheelchair with said blonde private was parked. Standing in front of him--no make that hanging off the arm of the chair, her feet hooked in the spokes of the wheel, more precisely-- was my niece. I stopped at the edge of the doorway and listened to her talking to him.

"---you think I should stay? Daddy doesn't understand. I know he needs me to help him. And I don't like Florida anyway."

"I don't know Julie, Florida has a lot more beaches than New Jersey. I'd definitely choose Florida. The surfing there---." He looked down at the prosthetic legs he had strapped to him. "I'm gonna find a way to surf again, did you know that, cutie?" His smile blinded me and I couldn't help but feel better. She was in good hands at this moment.

"If they buckle you on, you couldn't even fall," she giggled at him. I could hear her pout return, as she whined, "But really, Captain Jamie, I don't wanna go back."

"What about your mommy, cutie? Won't you miss her if you leave Florida to be with your daddy?"

"My mommy is in heaven. I always miss her."

"I didn't know that. I bet you do."

"Daddy just likes to be in charge. He's not happy here, you know."

I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Talk about understating things!

"I bet he isn't," Jamie said in a serious tone, but he smiled widely as he caught me eavesdropping. He nodded slightly in my direction, but otherwise ignored me. "I don't know, Julie. I think maybe you need to do what your dad says. He wants the right things for you, I bet."

He caught my eye again for reassurance that he was saying the right thing, and I nodded in agreement. What else could I do, charge in and say, 'Julie, your father is an idiot and you can stay?' The fact of the matter was, even if she ended up moving back in with him, she couldn't just hover around the hospital for the next six to eight weeks while Carlos went through all his rehab. She might as well be with Michelle for the time being.

I motioned to Jamie to see if he wanted rescuing, but he shook his head 'no'. I smiled back at him and decided I would go deal with Carlos while Julie was occupied.

I almost ran into Stephanie as I turned back down the hall. "Hey, what's up?"

"I'm looking for Julie. Tank thought maybe she'd come this way?" Stephanie stated. She looked a bit wound up. I wonder thanks to whom.

"She's in the gym. Leave her be for the moment, she's alright."

"Well---." She hesitated, as if she had a lot more to say, but she bit her tongue. Good woman. She's definitely the right one for him. Always looking out for him, careful not to put him down in front of me. Not that he couldn't use being kicked down a peg or two. I had great practice at it, and was looking forward a bit much to doing some more kicking. However, I respected her sense of loyalty.

I put her out of her misery. "Tank told me about my brother's stupidity, Steph, its ok. Julie is working it out."

"No, no, it's not like that. Actually, Carlos wants to speak with her. He is going to suggest that she spend the summer with us, and see if it works out, before he makes a permanent decision. He asked me to find her."

"Us?" I arched my eyebrow at her. I wasn't letting the use of that pronoun get by for one second. I was used to rooting out what people were trying to say, even when they didn't have the proper vocabulary. She was most certainly keeping things unsaid.

"Carlos asked me if I would move in …to help out…with Julie and all…" She was getting flustered, and her cheeks were turning red. Cute.

"He's a big boy, and you're a grown woman Stephanie, its ok. And I am glad to hear he's finally getting some sense. Welcome to the family."

"No! It's not like---."

I stopped her right there. I put my arm around her shoulder and gave her a hug. Then as we walked back toward the gym I explained my reasoning. "Enough of the dancing around, Stephanie. You love Carlos. My brother is in love with you. Head over heels in a fashion I never thought I would witness. I have seen it for these past months, and probably knew long before either of you did. He's never been this open before. He's never introduced us to _anyone_ he dated, his ex-wife included; let alone brought them to holidays. You are good for him. So wonderful in fact."

I hadn't given her a chance to catch her breath, let alone respond. Which was how I wanted it. Two people more inept at relationships I don't think I'd ever come across. If they didn't end up together, then God help them.


	63. Natural Woman 4

The Big Chill

Aliaslaceygreen

Not all characters are mine, not making any money

"You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman, 4"

Here goes nothing, I thought, as my finger hovered uncertainly over the call button. Oh, just do it, I chided myself, and then pushed on it too long and hard. The nurses were going to come in and be pissed off at my 'impatience'. Again. But, having made the decision, I was not about to second guess myself. Out of bed, today.

I didn't want to hear 'no' from anyone. Julie was leaving tomorrow, to finish out her school year in Florida. She was resigned to my decision, but unhappy nonetheless. She wouldn't be back till the summer-- and in her mind-- for good. Assuming I was out of bed, and out of the hospital by then. I wasn't getting any closer to up and about by lying here.

I just finished out the longest week of my life at Walter Reed. Today was Tuesday, the day that Julie had been carrying on so about. Her buddy, this mysterious Captain Jamie, was going to attempt to walk on his new legs. She was hyped up for the experience. Kind of freaked me out that she was so involved in it, but Marina told me to give it a rest; it was a coping mechanism for her. Besides, Julie had taken to declaring hourly that she was going to be a nurse when she grew up. It was probably good for her to see, considering I was next up to bat, so to speak. If I could get out of bed.

With all the free time I had to ruminate over the situation this past week, I'd decided it was vitally important that I be there in the gym while all this occurred. Didn't know why, but once an idea settled like that, considering how little else I had to distract me …I was going to be in the gym today if it killed me. Which it just might.

Tank had helped me sit up a few times and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. Not only painful, it felt odd. I hadn't touched the ground yet. I was more than a little nervous about the entire thing. I had run it through my head repeatedly and I could not quite come to grips with the logistics of the entire operation.

I could envision myself on crutches, my left leg missing; I could even imagine, I think, the idea of a prosthetic. I could see myself in the wheelchair if I closed my eyes. Been there often enough in the past. However, there was this disconnect with getting out of the bed and _into_ the wheelchair. That step seemed insurmountable. I couldn't figure out how, once I placed my right foot on the floor, I would be able swivel, hop, turn or lift my right leg to maneuver myself into the damned chair!

I needed to be in the gym today. I had to find out exactly who it was that I was competing with for my daughter's affection. Marina had commented that she wanted no part of being around me when Julie grew up and started dating. It made Marina laugh. Fuck, everything lately seemed to make Marina laugh.

Seemed like we were her entertainment. Me and Steph. I dropped my head back onto the pillow and closed my eyes, recalling with disbelief the way Rina had been behaving the last few days. Marina had spent the better part of my waking hours harping at me like a mother hen, and laughing her ass off because she claimed Steph and I had matching social skills that amounted to jack between us. I had thought we were doing well.

Stephanie had agreed to move in with me. Living with someone was something I had never considered before. Not really. It wasn't that I didn't love her. I gave up on trying to talk myself out of love. Damn it all, Steph was everything to me. In addition, I had thought I'd made it clear to her. Marina heard from Steph that I was asking her to stay, but Marina hadn't heard of any commitment. Commitment? Oh, fuck.

"Rina, you may be into all that romance and mushy shit, but that isn't me." I had tried to convince her that Stephanie had been fine with me asking her to stay with us. She understood what I was asking her. I guess Rina was waiting for me to get down on bended knee. Huh. It would be a long time coming, in the either the literal or figurative sense. I needed help figuring out how to get out of bed.

"Baby brother, there is a world of difference between mushy and a business arrangement!"

God, the woman aggravated me. I hadn't proposed any sort of business deal. Where her head was, I didn't know, and thankfully I didn't have to relive it much longer, as a nurse finally answered my call.

"It's a good thing I didn't really need you," I griped as she finally came in, happy with anything that would take my mind off commitment, love, and all that crap.

"What did you need?" Green Eyes again. Wonderful. I would say she always looked at me as if she was undressing me, if I weren't already undressed. A lot more energy than I really wanted to expend right now, playing her infantile flirting games.

"I want to get out of bed. I want to go to the gym," I told her severely, effectively shutting her down, as I struggled to toss the covers over and move as Tank had shown me.

"**Be careful**," she admonished me softly, her typical heavy-lidded glance and smile trying to distract me. Oh, let's stop this. Please, I silently begged, as she took over gathering my blankets, stopping to neatly fold them back.

"**I'd like to be, but there isn't time." **

"You have a fire to put out somewhere, Captain Manoso?" She actually batted her eyelashes at me. Save me from this hell, someone.

"There may be," I replied, gritting my teeth as pain ran through me. A little twinge of what Marina had labeled jealousy sparked in my mind. I wasn't ready to give up being the most important man in Julie's life, under any circumstances, for any reason.

"Let me call Gary to assist, ok, Captain? I'll get a chair and be back in a moment. I'm glad to see you deciding to start your recovery," she added with too much sugar as she left the room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As I turned the corner with a tray of lunch for Carlos and me, I saw a nurse pushing a wheelchair out of his room. I quickly peeked into the room and he was gone. Setting the tray on the bed, I took off down the hall and caught up with them.

"Hello!" I called out, and the nurse slowed and turned around. Oh, I bet Carlos was thrilled. Nevaeh. His favorite white trash nurse. "Where are you going?"

"To the gym. To see my daughter, since she is too busy to visit me."

I rolled my eyes at his overly dramatic carrying on. "Should you be up? How did you get out of bed?" I bent down and kissed him on his cheek. I loved touching him. "Marina hadn't told me you would be getting out of bed!" His hand came up and caressed my face. I stood in front of him and just smiled.

"You look good sitting up, Carlos. I brought us lunch from the outside, but if you aren't hungry…"

He shook his head. "It took ten minutes and two people to get me into this chair. I better take advantage."

"Here, I will push him, its ok. I know the way." I placed my hands on the handles and just kind of squeezed the nurse out of the way.

"So, the gym, huh? Getting a little stir-crazy? Ready to get up and walk, are you?" I joked with him as we maneuvered the hallway. I went slowly because I knew he wouldn't tell me if I was bouncing him around, and I had noticed he was looking everywhere at once. He would want to know where he was going, but again, he'd never say so. I just acted like it was a bit of a struggle to manipulate the chair and let him gaze around.

"Huh. Julie keeps going on about the gym and all the people down there she's befriended. She was saying one of the soldiers was going to take some steps-- ."

"Oh, yes, Jamie. Is that today? He's a really nice kid." By now, we had finished our short trip to the gym. "Reach out and hit that button, Carlos, it opens the door," I said, pointing to the wall.

I rolled him in through the doorway, and the quiet of the hospital halls faded into memory as the music playing kind of permeated everything. As usual the music was urban, not terribly loud, but not hospital quiet. People were everywhere. Machinery in motion, talking, grunting and laughter tried to compete with the sound system.

I moved us out of the traffic pattern and came to a stop. I let him take it all in. It was a pretty intense place. Each patient had between one and three people working with them, doing what appeared to me to be something between simple stretches and mediaeval torture. There were balance bars, like at gymnastics and ballet; the walls had mirrors on them, and all sorts of devices were in use and abandoned. My imagination couldn't even begin to assign tasks to some of the machines.

I spotted Julie, off to the side of the room. "She's over there, near the parallel bars. Do you want to go over?"

"Yeah, that would be fine, but keep me out of the way, it looks like the main event is getting underway."

He was pretty perceptive. Over the last few minutes the room had kind of slowed down and almost everyone migrated towards that side of the room.

We found a spot and settled in. He tugged at my hand and motioned me to his level. "That's him? He's a child!"

I switched between watching Jamie and watching Carlos in the mirror, as he watched Jamie. His physical therapists, some nurses, people I guessed were his family, and other patients had all come over to encourage him as he grabbed onto the bars, and with assistance, stood up out of his chair. A nurse rolled the chair away; another therapist stood behind him and spoke softly to him as he gained his balance.

Julie was at the end of the bars, and she could barely contain herself as he grunted, his face contorted in concentration. Slowly, carefully, he moved forward, a jerking step at a time. His face was dripping with sweat by the time he made it to the end of the bars, barely six feet in length. His smile was as big as if he'd just won the Boston marathon. Julie began clapping and bouncing up and down, and Jamie looked down at her. "Hey cutie," he beamed. Everyone around him began hooting and clapping and carrying on.

I looked at Carlos's reflection. I knew he didn't want me to see him wiping away tears, so I called out,

"Julie," trying to get her to notice us. Jamie needed to rest, and his family needed to have some time, too.

"Daddy? Daddy! Did you _see?"_ Julie dropped Jamie like a hot potato and was hanging from the back of Carlos's wheelchair, her arms around his neck.

"I did, princess. I did, indeed." His fingers grasped Julie's, and I watched the two of them in the mirror. They were so alike, it was a bit freaky.

"Hey, you're out of bed! This is way cool, Daddy! I can push your chair for you; do you want to go look around? I can take you. I know all the names of the machines and everything!"

I caught him looking up at me in the mirror and I shrugged. It looked like she was in charge down here.

Julie was actually more adept at moving him than I was. Go figure. She worked her way over to the crowd around the man of the hour, and I tagged along. Jamie looked up as we approached and smiled at Julie.

"Hey there, cutie, I did it." She went over to him and they high-fived. "Captain Jamie, guess what! This is my Daddy! My daddy got out of his bed to watch you walk!"

Jamie looked up at me with his brilliant smile and nodded hello. "Hi. Steph, right? How's it going?"

"Not bad, Jamie. You looked good before," I smiled. "Jamie, this is Carlos Manoso, Julie's father, in case you hadn't gathered," I laughed.

Julie had climbed up on to Carlos's chair, and was somehow balanced between his right leg and the arm of his chair. She looked so happy. The two men shook hands, Carlos eyeing him. "_Captain_ Jamie? How old are you?"

"Twenty one in July, sir."

"Captain?"

"Haha. It's actually a nickname. James Tiberius Kerran, Private First Class. My dad's a Trekkie from back when. Captain Kirk, you get it?" His laughter bounced around the room. "So, you gonna get up and do this gig soon, too, Captain Manoso, sir?"

"Looking like it, doesn't it?"

"It'll be easy, sir. Heck of a lot easier than I would have guessed. The choice between this," he waved at his legs, "and this," he hung his head back as if he were dead, "easy choice, sir. Especially when you have someone like Julie on your side. She's a real special kid, sir."

Carlos grinned. "I guess it is. And she definitely is." He pulled her closer to him for a kiss on the cheek. "Call me Carlos."

"Cool." My friends call me Captain Jamie." His smile was so infectious that even Carlos laughed aloud.


	64. Natural Woman, LAST

The Big Chill,

Aliaslaceygreen

Not all characters are mine, not making any money…

You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman, 5

We sat down on opposite edges of his bed. No, no. _Our_ bed. I'm living here now, I reminded myself, and a smile curved my lips with happiness. We didn't talk. There was nothing more to say. It had been such a very long time since we shared something more than a hospital bed. Our first night together at home, though, now that we agreed we would be together. We were a couple. We agreed we would love each other openly, be honest always about our feelings, and would share our lives completely. These were vows that felt sincere and sensible. Vows I knew we would never break.

Carlos was exhausted. I knew he had wanted to stay up to be with Julie. It was his first night out of Rehab, and the long ride from DC had been harder on him than he would let on. Julie had been bouncing off the walls with happiness and excitement that we were all together again. She, Carlos, Ella and me. For his first night home in Trenton, it was too much after the consistency and stability of eight weeks at Walter Reed. Even for him. Since he would not acknowledge it, I had had to make the call. We got Julie and Mrs. Wabbit tucked in, the promise of a summer full of Daddy time filling her dreams.

Ella, with her usual no-nonsense style, had appropriated all of my belongings over the weekend when we opened up the house. She took charge of all of Julie's luggage and Carlos's bags as they arrived home and set to putting the house to rights. Things seemed to be falling into place, so we told her to take the rest of the week off. We were going to attempt to do this family thing as a threesome for a bit, and let Ella enjoy the semi-retired lifestyle she and Luis had settled into.

My clothes draped over the chair by the bed, I reached for the lamp and turned off my light as Carlos bent over and unbuckled his prosthetic. He had his crutches propped against the wall. I turned my back and gave him privacy as he struggled to settle into the bed. It would get easier, I told myself. Every day, it would get easier. We would adapt.

I had come to realize that we would be moving some furniture around as well. He had tried to maneuver through the house on his crutches, and I could see that the house wasn't really set up for someone permanently disabled. His physical therapists had suggested that he run through the house in his wheelchair when he got home but he refused to let the thing inside. He told Tank to store it in the garage, and so there it was probably going to remain. Stubborn son of a bitch. I smiled despite myself, hearing Tank's grumbling.

He let out a low moan as he vigorously rubbed his stump. He balled up the silicone sleeve thing-y that had been over it, dropped it on the bedside table, and sighed deeply.

"Sore?" I asked as I rolled over to him.

He pulled on a new stump sock and grunted, "Huh." He shut his off the remaining lights, and tugged the blanket over us.

"They told you that…"

"I know. Only a few hours a day. Shit, Steph, I am not going to keep hobbling around on crutches! I'm not an invalid, and I will not use that damned chair. I will walk."

"I know, I know."

We snuggled together, settling ourselves into the pillows, and each other's embrace. It felt so right, so exactly the way it should be. His kisses became more exploratory, deeper, and more intense. He twisted me onto his chest, never breaking lips. Stretched out on top of him, skin to skin, the heat of his body was making me crazy. The idea of orgasms—both of us at the same time. What luxury!

My mind drifted as he set me on fire, to the variety of ways we had accommodated his reviving libido while in the hospital. I had become quite adept at the discrete hand job. He had learned to close his eyes and bear the ecstasy quietly in the twilight, biting and sucking on my neck, as I would bring him over the edge. I would stay as late as I could get away with in the evening, curled up under a blanket on the side of his bed, 'watching movies' while his fingers would massage my clit, and thrust deep into me, and cause me to quiver as he made me come. His lips would make love to mine, swallowing my screams, and the kisses he would trail along my neck, my earlobes -- feathery light, hot and sweet -- were sheer torture.

The pleasure of our secret intimacy and the warmth of embracing each other was a salve to our spirits, and the glue that we both needed for our relationship, as we settled into our new routines. Those first days of staying 24/7 had ended as Carlos had become stable. Visiting hours could be stretched some but eventually I would get kicked out, to travel to my lonely hotel room. Marina, Tank, and Julie had already abandoned me to get back to their own lives. Those wonderful three-day weekends were never long enough after we had agreed I needed to go home too, back to work, back to the real world.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"……..Hang on," I said breathlessly, my fingers pinching her nipple playfully with the promise of a quick return. I sat up and turned. I tossed off the covers and went to get up. As my right foot hit the floor, I sank hard back into the mattress. I sighed deeply, shook my head, and reached for my crutches. I got up and left the room, muttering, and then cursed as I hit the doorframe in the darkness.

"Can I help you with something, Carlos?"

"No. No, dammit," I said as I flicked on the light and moved into the bathroom. "I just need to take a fucking piss!"

I know she lay there, listening to me stomping around, my crutches smacking the fixtures as I went. Well, whatever you would call stomping with two crutches and a foot. I was having a little tantrum and I didn't care. I didn't think the bathroom fixtures were going to win this round. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I took a deep breath and stared at myself in the mirror.

Breath, man. Get it together. I looked at myself with blank eyes. "It's ok, soldier," I encouraged my reflection. I took another calming breath. I thought of all I had already accomplished, the way the therapists had guided me. I counted to ten backwards, and then I considered the good things that had happened recently.

Julie. Julie and I had found ourselves in the right place. I knew in my heart I would let her stay here. Even before I had gotten home today, I knew that. We had spent the past two months chatting on the phone every day; as her spelling and keyboarding skills got better, she even began IM'ing me at night at the hospital, and she valued my opinion on almost every matter.

I laughed to myself then. I had to offer opinions on a lot of shit I had no opinion on, I had discovered. Pink versus fuchsia versus purple sneakers? Apparently a part of being a father that I was going to have to get used to. Marina told me I couldn't laugh off those kinds of issues, that they helped to develop trust between us. I was firmly on the side of purple for sneakers over fuchsia or pink.

RangeMan. My business, Tank's and mine, it was thriving. I had hired a great Tech guy, Silvio, and he got me hooked up with a laptop. That got Tank out of the day-to-day business and back into busting skulls, which was his preferred activity in any event. I had had an Occupational Therapist, and he broke down the business for me, made sure that I could see how I was able to still be successful as the owner and CEO of a security company despite my limitations. All of the business aspects -- the hiring, the selling of the service -- all that was totally within my physical capabilities. At some point, there would even be fieldwork that I could handle. That would satisfy my need to get out from the boardroom.

And Stephanie. My Babe. She was more important to me than I could ever express. I couldn't ask her to marry me. Not yet, and I didn't know if ever. Nevertheless, that didn't negate any part of my commitment to her. We talked a lot about it, and us, and I knew she was more gun shy than I was. The world at large and Marina in particular, would have to accept us as a couple, sans rings. We both stumbled still. Both of us had issues expressing ourselves clearly, being frank and making sure we understood our emotional limitations. However, we wanted to be together, we wanted to be a family; her, me, Julie, and the children we hoped to make together. We didn't ever doubt our love.

Having cataloged the plusses in my life, I settled down and relaxed. I was home; with the people I loved surrounding me. I had achieved this goal. I thought I had said goodbye forever to this part of my life.

Stephanie was silent as I returned to bed and got settled back in. She chose to ignore my outburst. I was sure that advice came from the therapist they had provided her. It was definitely not like her! I pulled the covers up, reached over to embrace her again, to feel her warmth next to me, but then I dropped my head to the pillow with a sigh.

"Fuck it all. God fucking dammit."

"Carlos?"

"The light. I forgot to turn out the god-damned light!"

"Carlos, it's ok. Really, it's ok," she whispered. She turned on her light again and got up to turn out the bathroom light.

As I watched her sashay back to the bed, her naked form, the light showing off her amazing body, distracted me. She moved slowly, knowing I was watching her. She knew what she was doing to me, calming my temper, and raising my temperature. I wrapped my hand around my cock, my eyes never looking away from her, and I began to pump my hand along my length, harder and faster as her breasts rocked gently as she came toward me. Her smile got bigger, and she licked her lips in anticipation as she watched my hand move. Thank God, something is the way it was before. I felt myself harden more with every step she took. The idea of sinking into her, feeling her warm, moist heaven surrounding me, taking me in, welcoming me back, set my teeth on edge in anticipation.

"Here, now," I groaned, my hands reaching out for her. I pulled her to me and she tumbled onto the bed with a laugh. I rolled her under me, straddled her quickly, and thrust into her as she sighed my name. She was tight, wet and God, it was good. "I want us to get back to what we had started so long ago, Babe." I thrust again, knowing I wasn't going to last long, knowing I was going to pay in the morning with a sore stump. All of it was worth the pain to feel my blood boiling inside her, to feel her heat surround me.

I was home.

There are a myriad of sources of information regarding prosthetics. I may have been very cavalier with my medical jargon and descriptions in order to write the story I wanted to write, to tell the story I wanted to tell, which is a tale of discovery of human relationships. I am 100% taking poetic license, and mean no disrespect to anyone who may have suffered such injuries, under any circumstances. I have done some internet poking about but have not spoken to anyone so I cannot say that all of my descriptions, time frames etc are accurate in any fashion. See the links below; stories that are very inspirational. I appreciate all of you for not being rude in my depiction of Carlos being permanently disabled. As long as we fight wars, we send our men into this danger; this could very well be a truthful outcome for a man such as Carlos.

.?story_id_key=5785

.?story_id_key=5784

.com/

THANK YOU!!!!!

THANKS to everyone who has stuck by this as my muse has struggled, abandoned me, and done her own thing for the past two years. Thanks for your wonderful reviews and encouragement.

Thanks especially to Beth, Stayce, Kate, Dee and Rena, who tolerated a lot of versions of Big Chill, and held my hand through the tough bits. It makes me proud to call you Friend.

Stay tuned, there is ONE MORE SONG….the encore….coming shortly…


	65. ENCORE

The Big Chill

Aliaslaceygreen

Not all characters are mine, not making any money.

Encore

_**The Tracks of My Tears**_, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles

People say I'm the life of the party cause

I tell a joke or two

Although I might be laughin' loud and hearty

Deep inside I'm blue

So take a good look at my face

You see my smile looks out of place

As you get closer it's easy to trace

The tracks of my tears

Since you left me, if you see me with another girl

Seeming like I'm having fun

Although she may be cute

She's just a substitute

Cause you're the perfect one

So take a good look at my face

You see my smile looks out of place

As you get closer it's easy to trace

The tracks of my tears

Cupid, draw back your bow

And let your arrow go

Straight to my lover's heart

For me

Nobody but me

Cupid, please hear my cry

And let your arrow fly

Straight to my lover's heart

For me

Deep in my subconscious, I recognized click of the doorknob and immediately weighed the danger. Reluctantly my eye cracked open. The beam of light was narrow; all indicators were the intruder was small. I closed my eyes again and ignored it.

"Daddy. Daddy."

I tried to ignore it. It never worked, but I was not a quitter, so I tried.

"_Daddy."_

The voice was struggling and plaintive. I opened one eye, and had to swallow my laughter. Stella stood next to the bed, my crutch in one hand, her chubby fingers reaching out to stroke my face.

"Wha…?"

Her voice perked up when she realized she finally had my attention.

"Sophie's hungy," she proclaimed brightly, and presented my crutch to me.

"She is?"

"Uh huh."

"Stella, if Sophie is hungry, why don't I hear her crying? Why are you in here at" --I glanced up to see a time that was going to be painful – "at 4:50 AM to tell me?"

"Julie has her."

"Ok, good. Go back to bed, Stella Helene Manoso". I tried to put a good 'daddy' spin into the tone, but knew I'd missed.

"Daddy, she's hungy."

Julie knows what to do."

"I miss Mommy."

I groaned as I rolled over to look at my middle daughter. "I do too. She will be home tomorrow, ok? And she'll bring your baby brother home with her."

"Henry's cute, Daddy."

"Yes, he is. Just as cute as you were when you were born. Come here. Put down my crutch, get into bed and go back to sleep."

Her soft little body curled against me and her thumb slipped into her mouth. I looked down at her with wonder and stroked back her wispy curls.

My little Stella had been followed by Sophie Marina 20 months later. I could hardly believe that yesterday morning we welcomed a son, Henry Ricardo Manoso. Three kids under the age of four. And Julie was about to become a teenager.

What were we thinking? We were outnumbered two to one!

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Lula, just put Henry down for a minute will you? You are going to spoil him," I said, but I loved to watch him in his Aunt Lula's arms. His little bobble head of jet-black fuzz, the sparkle of mischief in his eyes, oh; I just wanted to eat him up. My baby. I grabbed a blanket and tucked it around Lula's shoulders. Despite the temperature, it was late October and we were going to be outside for a long time. I snatched a raspberry bubble kiss from him for my efforts.

"But I can't. This little man is too delicious. I miss this age," she said wistfully, but loud enough for Tank to hear her.

"Get the idea out of your head, woman. Tallulah is an only child!" Tank turned back and glared at his wife playfully and I had to smile. Those two were an inspired pairing! I couldn't believe it had taken me so long after meeting Tank to realize he was _the one_ for my old factory friend Lula. Their little girl, Tallulah, was three going on forty, and had a certain Jeremiah Johnston wrapped around her pinky finger. At the moment almost literally; her tiny hand was grasping one of his meaty fingers as she rolled along on her skate shoes.

Carlos had his hands too full of children himself to be very credible when he turned and shrugged at Lula with his almost grin. Stella was on his shoulders, taking a skating break, and he was pushing Sophie in the double stroller with one hand as he held onto Stella's leg. Sophie was out for the count—the child most like me, she could and would sleep anywhere, under any condition.

Julie was, as usual, ahead of us. She couldn't bear to be seen with all these children and parents hovering around her. Somehow, I had ended up with no children, but was serving as pack mule for the entire group. I had diaper bags, bottles, and dollies hanging off me from every angle. Plus a rolling bag of running legs and all of the guys badges and timing chips which we were going to need to get onto them. The race would be starting soon.

Connie seemed totally out of place. As always, she was immaculately turned out, despite the early hour and the event, which was going to be long and boring before a fit of crazy-assed cheering. However, she had been determined to come as soon as she found out Lester would be there. I shook my head sadly. That pairing hadn't gone nearly as smoothly as Lula and Tank.

"How come I never knew about this before, Steph? There are like, my gawd, a thousand hunks here, and they are all on _display_!" Her head swiveled from one to the next. "There has to be _one_ who is single, right? Look at _him_," she pointed her perfectly manicured index finger at one such hunk. Like many others, the object of her attention had found a shady patch of grass, where he stopped to stretch, retie sneakers, remove clothing layers, and otherwise prepare for the coming run.

Xxxxx

I stretched and moved, trying to keep limber. It was gonna be a fucking hard race. It was too hot for a marathon, there was no question we were all gonna be paying later. Too damned summer-like to be running 26 miles. There were gonna be bodies littered along the entire route before it was over, I knew that just by looking around. Too many people were getting in over their heads this year! I met up with Silvio, Hector, Captain, and Bobby where we'd agreed to meet.

"Boys," I nodded my head in greeting. "Santos," they chimed, and in formation, we jogged toward a bench near one of the footbridges. I was aware, as always, that we attracted attention from the ladies the minute we gathered together. Just what I needed, some flirting and bantering to distract me. I started some stretching exercises and Bobby stripped off his shirt and joined in. Captain modified the routine to accommodate and lined up next to Hector, and we got things going.

"Gonna whip those old men's ass's today, gonna wipe the floor with their times," I boasted with a grin, getting the guys motivated. "They are slipping, I tell yah. Sucked in by domestic bliss and rugrats all that shit. Getting flabby, they're not gonna have a chance against us."

I looked at Bobby as he laughed. Like me, he was a confirmed bachelor, happy to take a chance on all the female delicacies the world had to offer.

"I guess I probably shouldn't tell you that I asked Marissa to marry me then, huh?" Captain looked a little uncertain as he spoke.

"What?"

"Did what, Cap? Shit man, you too young to do that kinda mess. What you thinking?"

"What's a beach bum like you gonna do with a girl like Marissa?"

"Fuck you, Silvio. You too, Brown."

"That damned Miami sunshine's gone and pickled your brain, man. Ranger's gonna have to pull you back to the Trenton office for good. That'll get your head on straight."

Julie spotted us—no, she spotted Captain—and flashed him a brilliant smile. She veered our way, the rest of the RangeMan team and their families trailing behind her. Oh fuck, what's Connie doing here? Just what I need. But, damn, she looks good!

"Hey, man, really congrats, if that's what ya want," I said distractedly, as I pulled off my shirt. I flexed my pecs a bit unnecessarily at the blond who was passing with a crowd of runners on the pavement in front of us. Yes, indeed. I wouldn't mind ruining my time to follow an ass like that, I thought to myself. I could see Connie out of the corner of my eye, watching my performance, so I strutted a bit more than was necessary. "Fuck it's gonna be hot."

I looked at Ranger's oldest kid, a cutie with a major crush on Captain. "But, hey, guy, someone's gonna need to break it to Miss Julie," I said as I swatted him with the shirt before tossing it on the ground.

He had a sick look on his face when I said that. "Part of the territory buddy, being wanted---you gonna have to let her down easy. She's the boss's kid."

"She's twelve."

"She's been in _love_ with you since she met you, friend. You know it."

"Don't they grow out of stuff like this?"

"Got me. But she's still making goo-goo eyes over you and you know it."

By that time, my eyes had already wandered off to another lovely specimen of womanhood jogging past us. Badge number 45R64. May have to look her up later, uh huh, I thought, watching her boobs bouncing so nice and high in her sports bra. God bless the man who invented silicone. Her tiny purple shorts cupped her ass cheeks. Umm hmm.

I wish Connie's laser glare would focus on something other than me. Fuck. Why'd they have to ruin everything and bring her? This being dumped shit was for the birds.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tank and Carlos had handed off the kids and moved ahead to meet up with the rest of the RangeMan. He had shifts of contract workers in today so his entire A-Team could run together, as he had done for the past 4 years. I shook my head in wonder, recalling that first year. Carlos was in so much pain. He had had no business attempting a marathon, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. Of course his guys wouldn't let him enter alone, or finish alone. They were among the last 100 finishers the first year. Before the next marathon, he had recruited Jamie Kerran after he finished his stint in the Army. Now that was a tough guy. He finished out his time in Iraq with two artificial legs. It was easy to understand why Carlos had wanted him to be a part of RangeMan.

I watched as we approached them; they really were a team. Each one was a serious specimen of man. Chippendales meet steroids. That fact had been duly noted by all the women and many men as they passed; heads spun, joggers slowed and eyebrows raised in appreciation. I got to watch and laugh because one of them was mine! Looking at them today made me proud to know all of them. Well, almost all of them. Lester was on my shit list, but that wasn't a new situation.

Lester and Bobby had started a little show, stripping off their sweat pants and tee's down to only black running shorts. They were gonna be aggravated that I was making them cover up with black muscle tee's, but they had to pin their badges somewhere! They had a nice little routine going, too. I rolled up to the park bench and got Captain's attention. I had running prosthetics for him and Carlos to change into. The guys gave Captain a hard time because these legs gave him an advantage when running. However, they were designed for the task, and didn't beat up their bodies so badly. We had an assortment of legs at home. It didn't even phase me anymore; I joked that while I had a shoe fetish, Carlos had a foot fetish.

I pulled the runners out of the golf bag, and gave his pair to Captain, who had plopped onto the bench and stripped off his pants and regular legs. A couple of young kids stopped to stare as well, so now we had a multigenerational crowd watching us. All the grown women overtly admiring the 'Lester Hector Bobby' show; the kids fascinated by Captain and me taking his other legs and sticking them into the golf cart, sneaker side up.

I couldn't help but notice that some women still wouldn't stop making obvious attempts at getting any of the guys attention, Carlos's in particular. Too tempting I guess, even with a crapload of kids around. Wipe the drool honey, I wanted to say to a few, he's _mine_.

Carlos was preoccupied with Julie, who had stomped off in one of her patented 12-year old snits. I couldn't see her face but his was getting frustrated. I waved his runner at him; he nodded and stripped off his sweat pants while continuing to speak with Julie. My mouth watered at the sight of his rippling muscles under his tee as he bent over. God, I could look at him all day! It never got old. Ever. He sat on the edge of the park bench and started to unbuckle his leg; I figured I better get over there but I didn't want to interrupt.

Suddenly it wasn't a problem because she walked away. I leaned into him and let him squeeze me close. "Babe." The sound of his voice rumbled through me, and I felt his aggravation slide from him as we embraced. I bent down to kiss him, traded legs, and asked, "What's her problem now?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

All six guys were badged, timer-tagged, dressed and watered. After kisses and well wishes, we admired their collectively fine asses as they jogged as a group to the starting line. I was ready for a nap. Not even 8 am and the drama in my world! Yikes. It would be at almost three hours before we needed to start heading for the finish line to see the guys cross, and we had four children, one embarrassed almost-teen and one pissed off Connie to contend with between now and then.

Connie was strongly regretting having given Lester the slip a few weeks back. Shit, she'd done it as a defensive measure; she'd heard too much about him and his love 'em and leave 'em reputation. I thought he felt differently about her, but she wasn't about to be dumped. I believed they belonged together; that it might take more time than normal to get it through their thick skulls, but that eventually it would all work out. This morning, I had seen Lester watching Connie as much as I saw her trying to not look at him. Lula was definitely up to the task of fixing this problem. I took over the Julie issue.

It was going to be an awkward conversation to start. This parenting thing was difficult. It turned out I was not bad with bumps, bruises, and other things that could be fixed with the offer of a Popsicle. But the teen thing? The puppy love thing? Carlos and I both knew that Julie had a major league crush on Jamie. It had never crossed our minds that she'd be this upset about him getting married.

"Kiddo," I called out to her, and motioned her to the side of the road. I plopped down on the curb and tried to be casual. "Your dad says you're upset, sweetie. Want to talk about it?" Tears welled in her eyes. "Jules, it's ok. Come on, tell me."

And, boy oh boy did she. Poor kid, she had plotted it all out in her head. She'd loved Jamie since she was seven. She figured she'd grow up before he got married and then the age difference between them wouldn't mean anything and he would fall in love with her. More than all of that, she was embarrassed that everyone seemed to know how she felt. She was embarrassed that no one took her feelings seriously.

Apparently, she was more embarrassed about _being_ upset than she was about him falling in love with someone else. Hormones, gotta love them. And Carlos goes and literally runs off and leaves me. Yay. I could no longer see his ponytail, his slightly odd stride; the thousands of other runners swallowed him.

I just let her talk. I didn't know what else to do, other than to not tell her she was being silly. That line never worked for me. Always pissed me off. I guess I did everything right, because eventually she put her arms around me, in pubic no less, and told me she loved me. "I wish you were my mother, Steph."

"Jules, we can do that. Your dad has told you we could draw up adoption papers any time. Just say the word."

"No, I mean, I wish you really were my mom. Like, you were married to my dad. It would be weird to have you adopt me if you weren't married to daddy. Everyone else gets married when they fall in love. Don't you guys love each other enough? You have a lot of kids. I think you love each other. You are always touching each other and laughing and smiling when you're together."

I shook my head in surprise. This chatty Julie had gone missing months ago, replaced by a monosyllabic creature. I had forgotten how perceptive she was. I hadn't realized that these were things she'd notice.

Hmm. Carlos and I had tabled the marriage conversation years ago. It never seemed important. We knew we loved each other. We were happy together, and our family was growing and beautiful. Marriage had scarred me. I knew beyond any doubt that Carlos wasn't the Dick, and he knew that Rachel had been a youthful mistake; but somehow, we were both chicken shits and had let the status-quo remain.

"You think so?" I asked; a smile on my face. "I do love your dad. And you. And your brother and sisters. We are a family. You guys are my life."

"Well, then I think we should all be married, like a real family, Steph."

That was the end of our deep thought-provoking conversation together, because Henry let out a wail that my aching boobs acknowledged as mealtime.

Xxxxx

My head was about to burst. The sun was a killer today. Only about a quarter mile left, and we all seemed to be at about the same pace, other than show-off Captain, who blew us out of the water. He was probably resting under a tree by now. I glanced down at my running leg. Not as fancy as his since I didn't have a matching set, but so much more comfortable than my walking leg.

Our time was good. Not about to break our record from last year because of the heat, but not bad. Lester had stopped moaning and groaning about his love life after the first few miles and thrown himself into running the race, which suited me fine. 'Just tell her you are a changed man, I begged him. Tell her you love her and can't live without her and leave us out of it.' I didn't want to be playing counselor for 26 miles. I liked to zone when I ran.

We were definitely ahead of the rush of the less competitive runners; we had a relatively clear shot to the finish line. I looked again and could see my family. There was Stephanie holding my son; Julie had Sophie in her arms and my Stella was bouncing up and down because she had spotted me.

As a group I saw them move, and almost before I had crossed the finish line and had my timer removed from my shoe they were surrounding me. Little fingers gripped my leg; many arms were wrapped about my sweaty, aching body. I was loved.

Finally, I had caught my breath. Julie had dumped a welcome liter of water over my head, to Sophie's amusement. We had gathered-- my team, my friends, my family; and had dropped onto a grassy spot off to the side of the main crowds. I stretched out on the ground, a bit away from everyone, and Steph wandered over, my walking leg in her hands. "Looking for this?" She smiled and bent to join me. She had a wet towel, and began to wipe me down. "Ah, babe," I moaned in ecstasy. "That's nice."

"You're easy, soldier, aren't ya?" she giggled into my ear. "I have a proposition for you," she continued, as her fingers began to work out a knot in my shoulders.

"Uhm hm? I'm listening," I said, tension oozing out of my skin as she rubbed me.

"Actually, a proposal is more like it. Wanna get married?"

I smiled as I closed my eyes. "I'm free on Tuesday."

THE END.

Somewhat surprised to find that the epilogue evolved into something almost twice as long as a regular chapter? Not nearly as surprised as I was!

Please review!

Thanks for sticking it out! It's been a long ride to get here, and what more can be said than what I said at the end of my last chapter?

THANK YOU!!!!!

Thanks especially to Beth, Stayce, Kate, Dee and Rena, who tolerated a lot of versions of Big Chill, and held my hand through the tough bits. It makes me proud to call you Friend.


End file.
